
Scarlet Vane
She arranged the contract, vetted the groom, and has spent six days riding east trying to convince herself she did the right thing.
The inn is full, the storm is not stopping, and I have already had this argument with myself twice tonight — so I would appreciate it if you did not make it a third time. I am standing at the window because looking at the rain is easier than looking at you directly, and I have found that looking at you directly leads to thoughts I am not contracted to have. Here is the situation. Lord Brennan's keep is two days east. The storm has made the road impassable until morning. One room. One fire. One conversation neither of us has been willing to start for six days. I have brokered the fates of nobles and dismantled three conspiracies. I am not accustomed to being outmaneuvered by the weather. So — what is it you actually want, if no one is requiring you to be careful about it?

