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Message: <blockquote data-quote="havenstone" data-source="post: 4420793" data-attributes="member: 61094">The Cloth Merchant’s DaughterTHE FOLLOWING MORNING, Kyla and Carwyn leave the Palace early to go get their dresses made for the Ball. It's the first raucous day of a general Festival in Lynar, declared by the Patriarchs of the Five Families for the five days before the armies depart for Arawai. The streets are filled with people dancing, singing, playing rowdy mass games of ‘hoodman blind,’ and enjoying wine casks from the Patriarchs’ cellars. The black moon is visible in the day sky -- usually a poor omen, but no one seems to be letting it ruin their day. Kyla wears a cowl, which doesn’t stop her from attracting attention and (in one case) hurled wine and abuse. The wine has mostly dried by the time she and Carwyn arrive on Clothier Street, but her mood only sinks further as storekeeper after storekeeper coldly turns them away. Carwyn finally locates the shop of merchant Kendall Perigord, who was recommended by one of the d’Loriads for his fine cloth. The grizzled trader warmly invites them in, clucking his tongue disapprovingly at the stain down Kyla’s skirts. “Pack of dogs out there today. You sit here, my ladies, while my daughter brings you tea. We’ll see you well fitted out for the Ball.” The merchant’s daughter, a short girl with dark hair and striking hazel eyes, arrives with chamomile tea and a towel to dry Kyla. She has a kind, down-to-earth presence that soon sets the harassed young women at ease. “I’m Kayene, ladies -- please call me Kay, everyone does.” Carwyn and Kyla at once reply that Kay should call them by their names as well. “If you follow me, I’ll measure you for your dresses.” In the back room, Carywn notices a silk dress half-finished on a mannequin. Gauging its size, she casts an astute glance over to their young hostess. “For you, Kay?” Kay smiles, looking a little embarrassed, while she begins taking Kyla’s measure. “It is. I’m hoping to be at the Ball as well, la-- Carwyn. Our family has some distant ties to the Five, and my father and I will be helping to supply the army along the road to Guardwatch.” She suddenly turns her head back toward the outer room, eyes shining. “Father -- will cousin Atrix be at the Ball? Uncle Porphyry said he’s returned to Lynar.” “Ha!” her father calls back. “If he’s back, I can’t imagine him not being at the Ball.” “Wait -- you’re related to Atrix d’Loriad?” asked Carwyn in surprise. “You know that young rascal?” says Kendall cheerily, coming in with several bolts of Chramic silk. “His mother is a sister to the merchant Porphyry, whose wife and mine were sisters. We’ve seen plenty of Atrix over the years. My daughter grew up with him and young Jonathan d’Loriad, all visiting their uncle Porphyry together. And of course Atrix would hide in my shop when he got into trouble down here in town.” “We’re from Rim Square -- we met Atrix there,” Carwyn explains. “And Porphyry was like an uncle to me as well! He taught me...” She pauses for a heartbeat, decides against mentioning forgery and rumor-mongery to the respectable Perigords. “...how to get by in the world. So you’re another of Atrix’s cousins, Kay? We seem to be meeting them everywhere.” “Atrix always treated me more like a little sister than a cousin,” Kay says fondly. “His brother Jonathan and I were closer to the same age. I think we were both a little overwhelmed by all the trouble Atrix caused. And jealous of his adventures, too.” Kay’s smile turns suddenly to concern. “Porphyry told us about the Harak attack in Rim Square. Were you there when that happened? Are your families safe?” Kyla and Carwyn begin telling their story; Kay listens in fascination while briskly taking their measurements and beginning to cut the cloth. “...and so we arrived here,” Kyla finally concludes. “We saw Atrix yesterday, under close guard by two of his d’Loriad cousins. It seems his parents have arranged for him to marry in just a few days.” Kay smiles, but Carwyn thinks she sees her cheeks go a little bit paler. “Poor Atrix. That must not be easy for him. We knew he’d likely not be allowed to choose his bride, but he can’t have expected to be married off so soon.” “Well, these are not usual times for the Five Families,” Kay’s father offers, coming back from rummaging through his stock. “Mistress Kyla, I’ve found something that may make Lynar a bit more pleasant for you.” He produces a dark veil and gloves. “These are common enough on ladies from the palace to not occasion a second glance. You shouldn’t have to hide who you are... but for the moment, it’s probably the better part of wisdom.” Kyla feels a surge of gratitude that closes her throat and brings her close to tears. “You’re too kind, sir. This will make a great difference to me.” AFTER ANOTHER HALF hour of tea and friendly conversation, Carwyn and Kyla take their leave. Kyla’s veil works exactly as Perigord had predicted; people’s eyes seem to slide off her (and onto Carwyn, who doesn’t particularly mind). “What lovely people,” Carwyn says warmly as they walk back toward the Palace. “I really like that Kay.” From the shop of one of the cloth merchants that turned them away earlier, a young man emerges, dressed in new-cut noble garb. His eyes fall on Carwyn and Kyla, and with a barely perceptible start, he turns and hurries away into the crowd. Carwyn’s brow creases as she tries to figure out why the lordling looked so familiar. Then she gasps and grabs Kyla’s arm. “Wait -- was that Nina?”</blockquote>

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