Page 52 of The Seeker

I waited all afternoon for Otho to return, taking a much-needed bath to relax my aching muscles. When I climbed out, I eyed my dirty clothes with regret, not seeing any other option than to put them back on.

They felt grimy as I slid the breeches back up my legs, begging them to hang on a while longer. Pausing by the looking glass, I did my best to brush out my hair with my fingers, planning to ask Ena for help with a braid that night. Though I still looked tired, and thinner than I had before Adis had taken me from my home, I looked better than I had while living in Malheim. At least my face had regained its color.

Ena had done her best to use some patching supplies Askel carried to repair my ruined shirt, but the seams were starting to come apart, and it wouldn’t survive more than a day or two more.

With a sigh, I slid on my boots and pulled open the door, only to find Askel standing right outside, a goofy grin on his face.

“Oh, Askel!” I pressed my hand to my chest. “I didn’t know you were waiting.”

His blue eyes appraised me. “I knocked, but when you didn’t answer . . .”

“Otho left,” I stated with a frown.

“I know.” His eyebrows waggled but I shook my head; I wasn’t in the mood for jokes. “Anyway, he asked me to take you to purchase some new clothes, so let’s hurry it up. Ena is waiting outside.”

My mood immediately transformed, my steps excited as we made our way down the hall. Ena was leaning against the wall in the reception area, a smirk on her lips. When her gaze met mine, I shook my head, her expression morphing into one with questions.

“Let’s get this over with.” She held the door open for Askel and me. “I don’t know about you, but these clothes are on their last threads.”

“Mine too,” I agreed. “I hated putting them back on after my bath.”

Askel said nothing. All the men carried packs that held a change of clothes, even though I’d seen Otho dressed in the same outfit most days.

My chest pinched at the anger he’d harbored when he stomped out of the room. But something told me he would come around, like he always did. He merely needed time. The words flew through my mind in Friar’s voice, and I grimaced, wishing I’d asked Otho if she and Collum were okay.

“What’s that face for?” Ena asked. “I thought you and the general made up days ago.”

I shrugged. “He found out about the belladonna. I should have told him sooner.” And I meant that.

“He’ll come around. He always does,” Askel added. “He just . . . doesn’t have a good relationship with magic. He never has.”

“I know. That’s why I didn’t tell him right away.” We came to a stop in front of a small building—a few dresses hung in the smudged glass paned windows. There was no sign indicating it was a clothing shop, or even open, and I paused.

“It isn’t much, but it’s the only one in town, according to Otho,” Askel announced as he herded Ena and me inside.

Again, my mind flashed back to how much Otho seemed to know about this small town, but the moment I took in the interior of the shop, I deduced I would worry about him later.

While the exterior had been unassuming, with the same wooden walls the whole town had, inside was a sea of colors, with different clothing and fabrics hanging on every available surface. It looked like the shop owner had once tried to be organized, with white signs that poked out from beneath colorful fabrics, but they must’ve given up, as I could no longer read most of the signs, and there didn’t appear to be any specific method used to organize the various items.

“Hello there!” A small woman emerged from behind a pile of clothing. She was short, even shorter than Ena, her back curved over with age. She wore spectacles, which she polished on her apron before replacing them on her face. “What have we here?”

“Two women in need of clothing.” Askel held up the bag I’m sure I’d seen in Otho’s hands at the reception. “And I’m only here to pay.”

My eyes met Ena’s, both of us with the same thought in mind. We didn’t have space for a lot of clothing. Or even a bag.

“Alright.” The woman looked between us. “Who’s first?”

“I’d like two pairs of breeches and two shirts please. You can choose the color,” I said with a smile.

The woman brightened, giving me a once-over. “My, you’re tall for a woman. Are you sure you don’t want a dress? It’s rare we have someone as tall as you, you see, and well, I have this pile⁠—”

“Just the breeches and shirts please. I’ll take men’s sizes if needed.” I planned to throw away what I was wearing, and at least this way I’d have something to change into while I laundered the other pieces.

“Alright. Seems a shame . . .” She tutted as she weaved between the stacks of clothing, the only part of her visible being the gray bun on the top of her head. She reminded me so much of Signa, it was hard not to stare.

“I’ll take the same,” Ena called out. “But I am partial to the color blue.”

There was no response from the shop owner, but we both assumed she’d heard.