The look on Old Tom’s face when Enar demanded the paintbrushes back would be permanently engraved in her memory. She grinned. Clearly, bargaining successfully involved taking with her someone the size of a mountain loaded down with enough weapons to supply a garrison. For once Tom agreed to her asking price, one silver, the same coin he paid her with earlier. She couldn’t put the box down. Not on the walk to the inn, or when they got Enar’s and Thoren’s horses out of the stables, not even now, as they led the horses to Keara’s. As much as she didn’t want anything to bind her to her old life, she needed a reminder of her parents love for her, needed to remember the joy permeating her soul when she opened the box for the first time. Despite their dislike of each other, her parents had loved her deeply and she missed them. What would they say about her current partner? Lily glanced at Enar as he led the horses, glaring at anyone daring to look their way. Not many dared. Most took one look at Enar and pressed against buildings, backs to the stones, white shining in wide-opened eyes, in an attempt to get out of his way.
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