#post 27

“Are you well, Sadie?” asked a man’s voice as smooth as the sheets between her fingers. When she looked up, she saw an elven man with high cheekbones, vibrantly-deep green eyes, and long straight black hair tied back in a simple green ribbon. She recognized him from the last noble banquet she performed at.

“Uhm…” she cleared her throat “yes, Ser Calentavar. But am… am I in your bed?” for some reason that was the main question she had as she looked up at him, perched on the edge of the bed, a respectable distance from her.

Taerand let out a light chuckle “you are in one of my guest rooms. Do you remember what happened prior to this?”

Sadie continued to caress the soft maroon sheets between her fingers as she thought. Flashes of fire, fear, running, the creek… darkness. “I got hurt didn’t I,” she sighed and lifted up the sheets to look down at her body. She was dressed in a shift that was just a few inches too long but she looked and felt whole.

“It was a bit more than that,” his face grew even more serious than it already was “you lost your life in the Wraefen. But your friends brought you to me and I restored your soul to your body.”

Her head snapped up and she stared at him intently. “You’re lying. I didn’t take you for a jokester, Ser Calentavar,” the set of her jaw portraying her indignation.

“I am not lying. You may ask your companions to confirm that what I say is true,” he seemed unconcerned by her distress.

Sadie narrowed her eyes and watched him for a long moment before saying “and I will be ok after this? Bringing someone back from the dead isn’t like going out for an ale.”

“You speak the truth but do you not feel ok? Do you not feel your body whole, your mind intact?” he asked in a tone that suggested the questions were rhetorical.

“I suppose… I feel alright, maybe a little tired and my mind a little foggy?” trying to check her entire mind at that moment for any concerns was not a reliable task.

“Which is to be expected. You are fine.”

“Ok well where are Kireen, K’lai’a’la, and Donar?”

“They are waiting for you at the Laughing Stag. Your gear is over on the chair. My majordomo will wait outside to escort you there,” without another word he stood and strode from the room, his footsteps muffled by the thick decorative rug taking up most of the floor.

Sadie sat in the wonderful bed for just a moment longer, not really wanting to go back to her rough mattress at the Stag. She had always wanted a room like this, wished for the lavish decorations and endless trinkets she would put on her endless bookshelves. To have servants come and brush her hair, tie up her fancy dresses, help powder her nose, these were all things she had dreamed about since she was a girl. Here she was, in the exact room she had dreamed of. But her scratched leather armor and her singed underclothes sat in the corner, reminding her that she had to go back to her commoner life, living in a room above a tavern.

When she hopped down off the bed that was almost as tall as she was, her feet sunk a quarter of an inch into the carpet and she let out a sigh. She slowly dressed and when she stepped out of the room, a sharply dressed servant gave her a nod.

“I am the majordomo, a pleasure to meet you miss McRimmik. I shall escort you to the Laughing Stag.”

Sadie quietly followed him through the manor, marvelling at the grandeur in all of the hand-carved reliefs, vibrant tapestries, and lovely vases painted in intricate detail. A blue and gold vase with two swooping handles in the entryway especially caught her eye. Their brisk pace did not allow her more than an admiring glance though and they were out the large double front doors into the brisk night air.