378.
Ruby eyes strayed to the books clutched by the coyote. Gifts? Books. Nayru thought of the book she had given Aro. It has been something on stars and the universe. It had been nothing really, a gesture of good will between one friend and another. Yet it seemed more with this stranger and Harlowe. She seemed on edge, nervous of his arrival and when it did not come dissatisfied at his absence. Nayru could recognize the small signs of romance, even if she could not relate to them herself. She saw them between Conor and Bris, she saw them in Saluce when he spoke of Layla, but she did not seem them in herself and certainly not in relation to any male. She was at once envious of this woman and her feelings, and also sorry for her. For even if the tawny creature felt something Nayru could not, she would also probably suffer for it at some point.
Did he still live her? Larkspur certainly did not, and Nayru could only guess about Harlowe. Really she had to guess about Larkspur as well, noting only that the male’s scent had been washed from the lands and now his nephew’s was as well. He probably had gone the same way. “I don’t know.” Yet her voice held an extra note, sympathy maybe, and her gaze caught the hay colored eyes of the other and held them for longer than necessary. Breaking off eye contact, her voice was more flitting then, warmer, as if they were only talking of the weather. “His uncle moved on a while ago, I don’t know where.”
Nayru could have asked Conor, he would know both about the boy and the brute, but it hadn’t concerned her prior to now. And still didn’t really. Yet she was curious. Why had they left and to where? Larkspur hadn’t seemed like a deserter and Harlowe hadn’t seemed like much at all to her on their brief meeting. And who was this girl, looking for Harlowe and finding only Nayru in his place? “I’m Nayru. What’s your name?” The question was gentle, not a direct one but more of a suggestion, and the melodic voice of the fairy girl dropped low, almost inaudible as was her manner.
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