15 Dove #3
“The children like to sit outside at this time of day. Will you join us?” Orinno said, gesturing outside where the rest had disappeared off to.
Alwin slipped his hand into mine and looked up at me. “Please?”
“Of course,” I said. “Lead the way, young sir!” Alwin beamed and pulled me outside.
We moved along the curved hallway and through an open doorway into a wide courtyard.
More of a garden, really. Clover covered most of the ground, providing a plush carpet for the children, and dwarf maple trees and benches were scattered around.
Alwin and Sadie joined the other four children where they sat in a circle in the clover munching on their snacks and chattering amongst themselves. I sank gratefully on a carved bench.
“Not for the faint of heart, eh?” Orinno said as he joined me, pulling a shawl around his robed shoulders.
It was mid-autumn, with a slight nip in the air that felt wonderfully refreshing after the morning’s activity.
I sipped my water, enjoying the cool herbal taste as I watched the circle of children, going over their names again to make sure I’d memorized them.
“I think that might have been the longest hour of my life,” I said, grimacing. Orinno chuckled.
“Well, you did marvelously,” he said.
I stared at him. “Are you joking? That was a disaster! Everything got covered in paint and water; what a mess. And I didn’t make it through a fifth of my lesson plan for the day!”
He shrugged. “They’re children. Messes happen. And they’ll get the hang of things eventually. I think it was a solid first day.”
“If you say so…” I muttered.
“And, most importantly,” he said, turning his serene eyes to me, “it was the first time I’ve heard them laugh like that since they came here.”
“Really?” I said quietly.
He nodded. “They had fun today. That’s incredibly valuable. And you did that.”
Warmth blossomed in my chest. I did, didn’t I?
“Thank you for being so nice to me. And helping with the children today,” I said.
Orinno inclined his head. “You’re easy to be kind to.”
I held back a snort-laugh, just barely. “That’s not the general consensus from most people I’ve known.”
“Hmm. Perhaps you’ve changed over the years then. Life is long, and, as you taught us today, we all must try to accept and understand its flowing changes.” He watched the orphans thoughtfully. “Or perhaps you’ve just been spending time with the wrong people.”
Perhaps both.
We sat together awhile longer as the children finished their snacks and began to play Thieves and Nobles around the garden.
I learned about Orinno’s life before the priory and what it was like to be dedicated to the dual goddess’s service now.
I found myself sharing much about my own history, life at the manor, Choia and Petra.
He told me about his multifold work in the priory, helping in the infirmary, the children’s wing, wherever he was needed.
When clouds hid the sun and we saw the kids begin to shiver, Orinno and I gathered them up and hustled everyone back inside.
Maerryl, I saw, had reappeared at some point and stationed herself in the shadows of the hall behind me, looking bored and stony-faced.
Once the children were settled around a freshly stoked fire and their afternoon tutor had arrived—an elderly cleric who was a devotee of world history—I said my goodbyes and headed out to the stables, my bodyguard trailing behind.
Still silent, as she had been for a day and a half.
I was beginning to find it somehow more grating than her near-constant prickling from before.
“Did you enjoy the kitchens again?” I asked stiffly as we rode out the priory’s front arch, waving farewell to the greeter acolyte lounging nearby. Her pan flute music carried us out and onto the road, low and gentle.
Maerryl grunted. Careful to keep a couple horse lengths behind me as she did this morning, I couldn’t even see her properly without twisting around in my saddle. Which I absolutely would not do.
We paced along the road, silent once more. I knew she was furious. Or perhaps she’d simply just given up on me. Was I wrong this whole time? Why had I been so suspicious of her from the moment she stepped foot in my manor?
Maybe I’d read this whole situation, her intentions and actions, completely wrong.
Yes, I despised being tailed and monitored constantly.
But she wasn’t the true source of my problems, was she?
My parents were. They were the ones who hired her.
They insisted on this arrangement. She was probably just trying to make some coin and keep a steady job.
And she had the poor luck to be assigned to me. Lasted less than two days before I eviscerated her with my words, gathering all my frustration and anger to strike out without thinking.
I’d thought I hated her. But I didn’t. Not really.
Remembering the way I’d spoken to her the other night, I winced. What could I possibly do after that? If Maerryl didn’t hate me before, she certainly did now.