Chapter 9 #3
Her heart ached. Not in a way she expected though. Standing and removing her clothes, Griselda reached for a dark red dress with slits down the side of its thighs. A dress reserved for rituals and special events.
How fitting. Perfect for Silyre. Perfect as a departure.
A scowl formed across her face before she soothed it away. This had to happen. Using her old clothes to scrub the dried mud from her body, she carefully folded each piece and set it on the bed. Those were going to be a reminder for whoever entered her home after she left.
The dark rouge dress slipped over her arms easily.
The fabric was almost slick from years of wear.
It had been perfectly tailored to her body since, after all, it was meant to impress those who shouldn’t need to be impressed.
A light purple hem ran along the notched throat as it spilled down to her cleavage.
The same hem lined the bottom of it, kissing just above her knees.
Griselda ran her hands over her sides, smoothing the fabric down as she stared around her home.
A satchel sat by the entrance. It wasn’t too big, but would work perfectly for the items she wished to keep.
As she began to stuff belongings and medicine into it, Thrasik nosed his head past the fabric door covering.
“Is there anything I can help with?” His voice was small and filled with a strange tone of sadness. Or regret.
“No, I’m almost done.” Griselda didn’t look toward him, worried she would say something distasteful if she had.
I don’t blame him. But at the same time, I’d still have a home if he had just behaved.
Her shoulders heaved with a sigh as she shoved the final item into the satchel and stood with it. “Are you ready?”
Thrasik didn’t seem to understand the question was for him, his head cocking in confusion. As she approached, he pulled away and moved the fabric covering for her.
He was pushed against her hut as much as he could be. Discomfort radiated through his scales. Griselda raised an eyebrow as his scales puffed upon a harsh inhale.
Stepping outside, she was met by a small group of men from the village. The sun had almost fully set. These men should have been at home with their wives and planning the next day’s events.
A man roughly her age moved forward, wringing something between his hands in a way that made him seem uncertain of his own actions.
Thrasik coiled behind her, peering over her shoulder as worried eyes darted around.
“We, uh, we have a concern,” whispered the man. “This may be blunt, but it’s not of your exile.”
Griselda’s eyebrows couldn’t raise any higher if they tried. Instead, she folded her arms and cocked her head. She was past the point of antics and putting on an act.
“Some of our wives have,” he paused and licked his lips. “They have gone missing.”
A group of eyes moved up to stare at Thrasik in a seemingly accusative fashion.
“We haven’t found any hint aside from the string of their pendants. But no pendant. We humbly ask if you could keep an eye,” he sniffled, raising his head to the sky. “Or an ear, out to possibly see if there might be something strange happening.”
This was an odd situation. Something that should be brought up to Oglen, not her. Especially now that she was exiled and banned from the village.
“I’ll see what I can do.” Her voice was toneless. It was hard for her to feel emotion in this situation.
“Thank you. Thank you so much. We won’t forget this, or you.” The man stepped forward and grabbed her hands before kissing them.
Thrasik growled behind her.
As the man walked away, a few more came forward and offered goods. Mostly food and drink. Despite the circumstances, with how scarce food had become, she graciously accepted. The final man to approach gave her a smaller satchel.
“It might not be much, but please don’t leave here thinking we all share Oglen’s view of you.
You’ve been more than helpful with everything you’ve done.
My wife wouldn’t have survived the past winter without you.
” He grasped her hand, pulling her close to whisper in her ear.
“Don’t trust those close to Silyre. Not everything is as it seems. Your eyes will deceive what your gut knows to be true. ”
Griselda blinked. As quick as the man had been speaking, he was gone. She now stood alone outside her hut with Thrasik uncoiling next to her. Stars began to speckle the sky as the sun finalized setting. No one seemed to want to address the naga in the room.
“Your people have odd customs.” The hiss beside her made her jump in the silence, speaking of naga.
A laugh bubbled from her stern expression. “Maybe they’re just odd people.”
Thrasik reached a hand down, offering to help her up onto his back. Debating for a moment, she decided to take it. The day had been long and mentally exhausting. Riding a naga for a while didn’t sound like a bad idea.
Wrapping her hands around his slick waist, Griselda buried her face into his spikes and sighed.
What a strange series of events.
What a way to lose a home.