“Oh ho,” Vanya giggles, “Rubbed you the wrong way, did he?”
“When you say rubbing,” Emlyn snarks, “if you mean trying to take liberties with me, then yes.”
“Oh my,” Vanya grins, “at least half of the acolytes here would line up for that from Benger. Still, he did say that he owes you an apology and would like to deliver it in person. He thought that taking you out to the gardens might allow him to redeem himself with you a bit.”
“Hmmm,” Emlyn thinks for a moment, “Would you be able to come with us? Chaperones are customary among my people.”
“What on earth for?” Vanya says.
“He’s not a close relative,” Emlyn points out, “and I am not yet old enough to marry. I’m also not able to defend myself if someone tries to kidnap me.”
“If Benger can’t defend you,” Vanya shrugs, “I don’t know that I’d be any more helpful in that regard.”
To Vanya’s surprise, Emlyn snorts dismissively, “My baby sister would have bested Benger, and she’s not even allowed to use steel weapons yet.”
“Really?” Vanya says, “He’s highly regarded in a fight and ranks well in the tournaments.”
Vanya catches a muttered comment that sounds suspiciously like “Tournaments against what… toddlers?”
Emlyn finishes breakfast, and Vanya is helping her with her shoes when there’s a knock on the door. Vanya opens it to reveal Benger. He’s carrying a bouquet of pale pink peonies and white roses in a vase, “I brought you something to apologize again. We started badly and I’d like to try to fix that if I can,” he says, proffering the flowers.
Unable to test his motives, Emlyn looks at him carefully. His earnest expression and the offer of friendship and a request for a fresh start in the bouquet seem to be in alignment, so she relents. “Very well,” she nods, “Your apology is accepted. I have spoken to Gethin since then, and he made me aware that my… wardrobe choices are… open to misinterpretation here.”
Blushing a bit, but still grinning at her, he nods in agreement. “The less said about that,” Benger chuckles, “the better. I must say that you look much lovelier than you did the last time I saw you. Your hair is growing back nicely. Are you walking yet?”
“A little,” Emlyn says, “but not enough as yet.” “You walk as far as you can,” Benger says, “and when you can’t go on, I’ll just carry you.” At her look, he shrugs, “We have these chairs on wheels, but they’re more of a hindrance than a help. The wheels catch on everything, and the ride is pretty bumpy. Carrying you will be easier on both of us. Between my pack and my armor, I carry more than you weigh almost everywhere I go. Besides, you need to walk as much as you can. That’s how you’ll get your muscles back. Just think of me as another brother.”
Emlyn stands up and wobbles for a moment before strolling to the door. “Which way?” Emlyn asks Benger, and he points.
She starts and makes it another dozen steps before her knees begin to buckle. “I knew you weren’t going to get very far just yet,” Benger says as he scoops her up, “The gardens are this way.” As he walks through the temple carrying her, he points out various landmarks to help her orient herself once she’s able to navigate on her own.
The pair gets some odd looks from people that they pass in the hallway, but Benger ignores them, so Emlyn does as well. Finally, they come to a door and Benger sets her carefully on her feet, “I need a free hand to open this. Do you think you can stand up for a few moments?” Emlyn nods, so Benger tugs the door open while Emlyn clings to the wall. With the door open, he scoops her up again and steps into the sunlight. Emlyn squints for a moment before closing her eyes and turning her face up to the sun.
The temple gardens unfold like a tapestry behind the sanctum, enclosed by high sandstone walls that keep the city’s clamor at bay. Winding flagstone paths meander through beds of medicinal herbs, flowering shrubs, and sacred blossoms whose petals are said to carry whispered blessings when stirred by the breeze. Bees hum lazily between blooms, their golden bodies dusted with pollen, undisturbed by the cloistered calm.
Abandoning his original plan to head for a bench, he heads out into a central area of the lawn, “I’m going to put you down here and go get us something to drink.” Emlyn nods her agreement, so he sets her down gently on the lawn. “I will be back in just a few minutes. The kitchens aren’t far.”
Emlyn arranges herself in a position of meditation as best she can, delighted to be outside for the first time since she’s awoken in her new home. As Emlyn is enjoying the sunny day, a coterie of acolytes in the corner is grousing about Benger paying attention to Emlyn.
Emlyn overhears a couple of comments about “tattooed freak” and “little boys’ haircut”. Benger returns with a couple of glasses and a pitcher of chilled juice. He sits down next to her and pours Emlyn a glass. “Here,” Benger says helpfully, “This is good for you. I don’t know if you’re familiar with oranges, but we grow them here.” Emlyn eyes the orange juice warily and sniffs it tentatively.
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It smells sweet and enticing, so she takes a cautious sip. Laughing, she looks at Benger, “I’m not sure how to describe it, but it’s delicious.”
“I’ll take you to see the trees in a bit,” Benger says, “All that new skin of yours ought to be getting pink pretty quickly, so we’ll have to find some shade anyway. Davilla and Vanya will have my hide if I let you get a sunburn.”
Finally, a small group of acolytes wanders over, “Who’s your new friend, Benger?” one of the girls asks in a saccharine voice.
“I’m Nia,” Emlyn answers, “and I take it, from your tone and your comments, that you are having difficulty finding a man to bed you. Perhaps if you spent half as much effort working on your interior as you seem to employ on your exterior, someone would be willing. I suspect that unhinged, more than a few arrows short of a quiver thing you have going on, puts most of them off. If you keep at it, though, I’m sure you’ll catch one of them on an off day and they’ll finally agree.”
At the girl’s outraged look, Emlyn waves her off, “I will look forward to seeing you on the proving grounds as soon as I am able.” Emlyn pointedly turns her back on the group of girls who stand there, nonplussed, for a few moments. As the girls huff off, Benger chuckles. Emlyn shakes her head, “Stay away from that one.”
“Aren’t you being a little harsh on her?” Benger asks.
“Not in the slightest,” Emlyn replies, “You didn’t hear all the comments about how twisted you must be to like a tattooed freak with a boy’s haircut when you could be out here with that nitwit.”
“They said all that?” Benger frowns.
“Oh no,” Emlyn shrugs, “They had a lot more to say than that. That’s just the part that caught my attention while I was meditating.”
“Well, your ears are getting pink,” Benger says, “so it’s time to move. We’ll see what you think of an orange off the tree. I’ll show you how to peel it.” Benger scoops her up and heads for a bench under some orange trees. Sunlight bathes the grove in golden warmth, filtering through the glossy green canopy above. Dozens of orange trees stand in careful rows, their trunks stout and gnarled with age, branches heavy with ripe fruit. The scent—sweet citrus mingled with wild jasmine and tilled earth—lingers in the air like a hymn.
“You really must come see them when they’re blooming,” Benger tells her, “The fragrance alone is incredible. All the trees are covered in white blossoms. It’s quite a sight.” Reaching up, he plucks an orange off the tree and demonstrates how to peel it. Emlyn grabs one of her own and rakes a nail over the orange rind.
The smell is incredible, and she looks at Benger curiously. “Are you sure that the rind isn’t good to eat? It smells amazing.”
“It won’t hurt you,” Benger shrugs, “but it does not taste good at all.”
Emlyn peels her fruit and pries out a section to taste. She pops the section in her mouth and chews. “Oh,” she exclaims, “This is the same as the juice.” After she’s eaten a few of them, Benger decides that he should probably get her back to her room.
“I suspect that if I don’t have you back soon,” Benger grins, “that Davilla will be looking for us. Let’s see how far you can walk, now that you’ve had a chance to rest a bit.” He points to the door, “Think you can make that?”
Emlyn grimaces, “I can try for it, but stay close.”
Carefully, she stands up and takes a few wobbly steps before straightening out. Moving slowly and deliberately, she makes it to the door and leans weakly against the wall.
Benger congratulates her and pulls the door open. “After you, Princess Nia. Let’s see how far down the hall you can get.” Still going slowly, she gets another four steps before her knees start to go. Benger steps up and grabs her arm, “Just lean on me and we’ll go as slow as you need.” Emlyn makes a few more steps, leaning heavily on Benger. “That’s enough,” he says and scoops her up again, “We’ll do some more of this tomorrow. You’ll be wanting a nap after lunch as it is.”
“I find the inability to do the simplest of things to be utterly and completely infuriating,” Emlyn frowns, “I don’t mind pushing myself if that means I am not so inept at walking.” Benger returns her to her room and sets her gently on her bed.
“I’m going to talk to Ember about my duty assignments,” Benger says, “so that we can start walking a bit every day. And ignore the nasty little cowpie. Your hair will grow out. She’ll always be a nasty cowpie.” Benger departs, and Emlyn is left to her own devices. She has found the outing with Benger to be extremely pleasant, and his offer to walk with her every day is compelling, as it's something she’d thought about asking for but wasn’t sure how to phrase.
Benger goes straight to Ember’s office and tells Ulwin that he needs to speak with Ember. “Is this about the girl?” Ulwin asks, “How is she?”
“I’m here to report to Ember,” Benger says quietly.
“But everyone is asking about her,” Ulwin says, “And there are the wildest rumors.”
“It’s not my place to fuel the rumor mill,” Benger replies.
“Can’t you tell me anything at all?” Ulwin asks again. “No,” Benger replies, “I have precise instructions.”
“Even for me?” Ulwin asks.
“My instructions specifically mentioned you,” Benger tells him.
Frowning, Ulwin opens the door, “Benger is here to report to you.” At Ember’s gesture, Ulwin gestures him in, but remains hovering in the doorway. “Why don’t you go to the kitchens and get Benger some lunch since he’s going to miss lunch otherwise?”
Disgruntled, Ulwin stalks off.
“You know that he was pushing me about the girl?” Benger says, and Ember nods.
“Yes,” Ember sighs heavily, “I am going to have to get a new and less nosy assistant. Did she give you her name yet?”
Chuckling, Benger tells him about the incident in the gardens. “She gave me a name,” Benger says, “but I’m fairly certain that it’s not her name. At least now I have something to call her.”
“I want you to go by and speak with Master Bozell. I don’t want those girls to harass you or her. Tell Bozell that I said to handle it. Transfer them to other temples, or whatever he thinks is best. That clique of girls should have been broken up already.”
“As I understand it,” Benger shrugs, “I think he’s tried. I think sending them all to different temples might be an excellent idea.”
“Make sure that it gets noted in their files that they’re being transferred for harassing a recovering patient. No need to mention which patient by name, but” Ember instructs him, “I want the other temples to know what they’re getting when these girls arrive there. How’s she doing?”
“She can get about twenty steps on her own,” Benger says with a head shake, “She thinks they need to feed her better. I think she needs to walk as much as possible to rebuild her strength. If she’s going to be able to make it through the chapel to take her oaths, that’s about fifty of my steps. I told her that I’d discuss my duty schedule with you so that I can walk with her every day. She’s pushing herself a bit too hard. She tries to walk until she’s literally buckling. Someone needs to be there to catch her, so she doesn’t hurt herself. It won’t do to have her crack her skull now.”
- Emlyn reunites emotionally and spiritually with her father and grandfather through her blades.
- They coach her on strength, healing, and diet like the world’s sternest wellness mentors.
- Emlyn’s first public outing begins—complete with new clothes and extreme reluctance about Benger.
- Benger apologizes properly, flowers included.
- Emlyn walks farther than she has yet and accepts a princess?carry without complaint.
- The gardens are described in vivid beauty: herbs, blossoms, sunlight, bees, and citrus.
- Acolyte mean girls attempt sabotage.
- Emlyn obliterates them socially so efficiently it should count as a martial technique.
- Benger and Emlyn share oranges and surprisingly calm, friendly interaction.
- Emlyn continues healing, growing, and reclaiming pieces of herself.
Coins:
We left off at 285 coppers.
Add +10 coppers for ancestor reunion, sunshine, snark, and emotional balance.
New Total: 295 coppers
Random Object:
A dried orange peel twist, saved as a reminder that not all strange-smellin’ things are poultice nightmares.
Snips the Crab:
Snips arrives decked out in:
- A tiny floral crown (pink peonies and white roses, of course)
- An orange slice strapped to his shell like a fruity shield
- A little wheeled cart behind him labeled “Chaperone Services: 1 copper”
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