Lanisen is flopped across a chair near a window of the anteroom, staring out at the darkening road with unfocused eyes. He has a book with some sort of indecipherable diagram on one of the visible pages open on his lap, as well as a lit lamp at his elbow, but he’s not reading it. He looks like he’s thinking very hard about something, but by his distant expression, it’s not the reading material.
Evette emerges from the general direction of her room, walking rather quietly. She casts a swift glance back at the hallway which contains her door and sighs in what appears to be relief. Quickening her steps, she pauses by the desk and speaks to Prindle in low tones, apparently explaining something. He nods and makes a note of it and she nods back.
Continue reading book club
Lanisen is plopped in an unobtrusive corner of the anteroom, perhaps not immediately noticeable. It might be surmised that this is intentional. He has a fairly intimidating-looking book open to a page near the beginning and is studying it intently, following the lines of text with one forefinger and mouthing the words to himself as he goes.
Evette walks in from the hallway to the north, speaking emphatically with a gray-haired woman who is dressed in traveling clothes. “Honestly, Vela,” she says firmly, “I do not see how you can object if Rosa does not. I daresay it will be good for me to experience new places before I decide what I am to do with myself, and I have made friends here already.” The woman interrupts her, blue eyes flashing like ice, “That is exactly why I won’t have any of this nonsense. I do not approve of this friend you have made and I very much doubt the Lady Rosalind would either. If I have any say in the matter, you will march straight back to Lancelyn Green and that will be the end of this business.”
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Dar stands in the hallway and knocks lightly, though somehow managing to convey an air of command, on one of the doors.
Lanisen, after a brief pause and a noise of scrambling from inside the room, opens the door. He has the unmistakable look of someone who has just woken up and attempted to make himself look less disheveled in a matter of seconds. “Sir,” he says, bowing immediately.
Continue reading elusive acquaintance