A Conversation Over Lunch in Chimera's Rest
Foursday,
Fourth Hand of Coldeven, EE238
Tándir
of Great Harbor
Chimera's
Rest, Wirth
Walking
out of Nyor's studio, Saafiyah's hand in mine, I handed her the
leather bound set of Tyystian travel papers. She let go of my hand,
smiling at me and opened it. The smile faltered as she stopped
walking. The girl glanced up at me and back down. I watched,
surprised as tears brimmed in her beautiful eyes, the first time I'd
ever seen her on the verge of crying. Why? What had I done?
"Come
on," I said gently, not probing for answers. I'd learned long
ago that Saafiyah's secrets were her own and there was no use in
trying to draw them out. I took her hand again and she began walking
with me, her eyes still riveted on the travel papers.
Finally
she looked up at me. "Thank you."
"You're
welcome," I said, still unsure of what had caused her reaction.
"Now how about a meal?"
I
was exposed to yet another side of Saafiyah as we ate at a local open
air market, sitting out on incredibly uncomfortable wrought iron
chairs. The sounds of merchants and shoppers was nothing like what I
had grown accustomed to back home in the Soul Market. She barely
picked at her food. her eyes stared at me, unspoken words and
emotions echoing in them. The travel papers lay open beside her
meal, held down with her hand, and she glanced at it regularly. I
still could not understand what had her acting as she was, though I
felt like I was supposed to.
"Eat!"
I ordered gruffly, frustrated with my own lack of understanding when
it came to children.
Saafiyah
grinned suddenly, a big grin that, canine gaps and all, had my heart
swelling. She picked up the travel papers and, extending her arm
across the table, showed them to me.
"Yes,
they're very well done," I said, commenting on the quality of
Nyor's work.
"Read,"
she ordered. "What does it say?"
Travel
Authority?" I said, almost questioning, wondering what she was
getting at.
"Go
on!"
"Under
the authority of the Court of Tyyst..."
Saafiyah
blew out a heavy breath in frustration. "The name!"
"Saafiyah
Jansaren."
"Again
please?"
I
smiled. "Saafiyah Jansaren."
"Good!"
She nodded. "And don't you forget it, father!" Suddenly
she dived into her food, gorgeous eyes twinkling with pleasure. I
sat stupidly smitten; with a child; a twelve cycle old killer, I
remeinded myself. How ridiculous.
I
smiled again as I turned my attention back to my own meal, pleased
with being a father.
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