Weddings.
She hated them.
Kezrin sat in the back corner of the tavern, picking idly at the plate of food and avoiding eye contact with anyone. She felt a pang of guilt for leaving Koudo to deal with picking up the invitations, but she couldn't deal with it. Not any more. She'd been unable to sleep after the last Lounge night.
Kezrin wasn't sure why she stopped at this particular tavern, but she wasn't up to thinking too hard about anything. No one bothered her when she came in aside from the waitress who took her order and that was enough.
She automatically looked at the notice board posted on one wall before sitting down. She wasn't sure what she was looking for, but there were several listings for one time work and day laborers. Later, later... she'd worry about the future later. There was enough on her mind already.
Even now, with the curse long gone, the thought of weddings and marriage and insufferable grooms gave Kezrin a headache. Hours spent picking flowers, deciding menus, dress fittings, carefully orchestrating guest lists for maximum social posturing... all for what? It was the pinnacle of social showmanship and one-upping.
It wasn't about love. It couldn't be about love, not with him involved. Trenetir Moradinel was exactly the same as Nozzel Waxworth had been: a smooth talking, outwardly gracious lying piece of scum who was only out for himself. She didn't know how he benefited from Irilin, but she was sure there was a reason.
She didn't blame other people for not seeing it. At least Koudo had finally learned the truth, even if it had broken her heart. Kezrin hadn't known about Irilin until it was too late, and then, what was she to tell him without breaking confidentiality? Or causing trouble for the company?
Perhaps Irilin simply couldn't leave him. She didn't know if he had any family, or if Moradinel held any threats against him, but there was the complication of his recent injuries. He didn't have the option of just packing a bag and starting anew somewhere.
The plate was pushed away, half eaten. Irilin's life was about to be ruined, but there was nothing she could do about it. She couldn't stand up to Moradinel, but nor could she tolerate being told what to do and having to pretend to be happy for someone.
It was much better to hide in her corner and try not to think about weddings.
Coward.
She hated them.
Kezrin sat in the back corner of the tavern, picking idly at the plate of food and avoiding eye contact with anyone. She felt a pang of guilt for leaving Koudo to deal with picking up the invitations, but she couldn't deal with it. Not any more. She'd been unable to sleep after the last Lounge night.
Kezrin wasn't sure why she stopped at this particular tavern, but she wasn't up to thinking too hard about anything. No one bothered her when she came in aside from the waitress who took her order and that was enough.
She automatically looked at the notice board posted on one wall before sitting down. She wasn't sure what she was looking for, but there were several listings for one time work and day laborers. Later, later... she'd worry about the future later. There was enough on her mind already.
Even now, with the curse long gone, the thought of weddings and marriage and insufferable grooms gave Kezrin a headache. Hours spent picking flowers, deciding menus, dress fittings, carefully orchestrating guest lists for maximum social posturing... all for what? It was the pinnacle of social showmanship and one-upping.
It wasn't about love. It couldn't be about love, not with him involved. Trenetir Moradinel was exactly the same as Nozzel Waxworth had been: a smooth talking, outwardly gracious lying piece of scum who was only out for himself. She didn't know how he benefited from Irilin, but she was sure there was a reason.
She didn't blame other people for not seeing it. At least Koudo had finally learned the truth, even if it had broken her heart. Kezrin hadn't known about Irilin until it was too late, and then, what was she to tell him without breaking confidentiality? Or causing trouble for the company?
Perhaps Irilin simply couldn't leave him. She didn't know if he had any family, or if Moradinel held any threats against him, but there was the complication of his recent injuries. He didn't have the option of just packing a bag and starting anew somewhere.
The plate was pushed away, half eaten. Irilin's life was about to be ruined, but there was nothing she could do about it. She couldn't stand up to Moradinel, but nor could she tolerate being told what to do and having to pretend to be happy for someone.
It was much better to hide in her corner and try not to think about weddings.
Coward.
No comments:
Post a Comment