Of Caverns and Casters ✓ [TLRQ #1]

Chapter 29 - Leavi

The others do, passing through the gilded bars and down the path back to their village. I lean back against the cold gate, arms wrapped around myself as I wait for Sean. I never saw the little orphan girl again after the cliff accident, and I hope to skies no one tried to take the jacket from her.

A gust sweeps through the manicured grass, and I shiver. From behind the manor, a tall figure trudges across the grounds, silhouetted against the setting sun. His head's down, shoulders hunched, posture dedicated to studying his feet.

"Sean!" My voice surprises me by cracking, and I realize that's the first word I've spoken in hours.

Sean's gaze stays on the ground. The glare of the sun against his profile disappears as he gets closer, revealing what I couldn't see before. Chin-down, he's been mottled in thick, brown... Skies, I hope that's mud. I ease forward, just enough to get a whiff of him.

The wind shifts, slamming me with the scent of manure, and I gag, caught off guard. Sean walks past me like I don't exist, following the path. We pass up the fork to the village, letting us avoid the crowd.

Neither one of us speaks as we plod our way back home through the forest. When we get to the house, Sean doesn't bother going in. Instead, he heads straight to the well, draws the bucket up, and upends it over his head. Water streams down his body, sloughing off the horse dung. He repeats the process again, and yet again. By the fourth time, every inch of him is dripping, all the excrement possible to remove this way already washed off with the last bucketful.

"Sean." He glances back to look at me, hair plastered to his forehead. "I think that's enough."

"I was just putting it up." He moves to wipe the water from his face, then pauses, staring distrustfully at his hand. His upper lip curls. Turning, he strides toward the house.

I move to cut him off. "I don't think Marcí is going to be happy if you flood her house." I look him up and down.

His jaw clenches, irritated. "How else am I supposed to get dry clothes?"

"Just," I sigh, surveying him. "Stay here." I start to head inside.

"Well, I'm not going to stand out here and drip dry!"

I look back at him over my shoulder. "Well, skies. That was my entire plan." I raise my brow. "Just wait here." Before he can find something else to argue about, I go in and hurry up the stairs, head down.

"Hey there." Jacin's at the top of the steps, and I pause, mid-way up. A smile brightens his face, and he pads down to meet me. "You getting ready for the party?"

I look at him, confused. "Party?" A tangle from my failing bun spills onto my face.

He shrugs. "Yeah. Marcí is throwing one tonight. A sort of welcome for you. She did it when I showed up too, but it was smaller. She had me running invitations for hours today. I think I ended up passing them out to half the town."

"For us?"

"Well, she says it's for you. She's been complaining about people not being social enough for the last few weeks, so I think it's more of an excuse than anything. But," he adds, "it'll be lively at least. So you'll come?"

Right now, attending a party is the last thing I want to do, especially this one. Missus Marcí's version of the perfect party is probably a quiet quartet, girls wearing dresses they can't breathe in, and hours of small talk that numb any intelligent brain to mush. I'd rather curl up in bed than spend hours at an event that sounds dangerously close to the work functions my mother used to drag me to. I can imagine her in her pearls now, fluffing her hair in front of the mirror. You want to get ahead in this world, Eleaviara, you talk to the people that are already there.