The Weaver's Source

Chapter 68

"There, done." Milcent announced as she shuffled away, jotting down numbers. "I'll make a couple of things for you."

"You don't need to." I said and hopped down from the wooden stool.

"I told you I am making these clothes. I won't have you die from the cold." She said merrily. "Now I plan to make a new dress and heavy trousers for you, one made from mountain hare fur and goat wool, very comfy but also lighter for the warmer days. I'm planning to make you a coat. It'll be very thick and very warm, so save it until you're further north and deeper in winter otherwise you'll cook. Your current cloak should be enough with the new dress for now."

"Thank you." I said warmly.

She waved her large hand in the air, brushing away my thanks. "You're earning this so don't thank me." I nodded and she wrapped her arm around my narrow shoulders. "Well, go eat and rest."

"I will." I said and took a step away.

"And keep Grigore's bed warm." She added.

I turned sharply, my face instantly hot and my eyes wide with denial as my stomach burst from a flurry of butterflies, but I said nothing as she laughed at my expression and waved me away happily. I left the room and entered the warm loud bar, nearly being crushed by a large man as he collapsed beside me. Thankfully his drunken friends managed to catch him and pull him away before he could land on me. They waved me off, laughing, and I sought Grigore in his gloomy corner of the room.

I sat beside him, still red-faced from Milcent's comment, pulse thumping and unable to look at him properly. I felt his eyes flit over my face, curious as to why I was staring so keenly at the table with mild amusement.

"Did the measuring go okay?" He asked, tossing aside the ward.

I nodded stiffly. "It went fine." I paused, trying my hardest to keep the thoughts of lying next to Grigore out of my head and glanced about, making sure everyone was too drunk or busy to pay attention. "I told her about the myling." I admitted softly. "She said she would keep an ear out for any gossip about missing children."

Grigore nodded and hummed in approval much to my surprise. I had expected him to grumble about it darkly at least, not happily accept it. "Milcent will be of use." He added, draining his mug. "But it'll be the servants of the Lord Master who will help you the most. Tomorrow I want you to mingle with them, see if you can pry stories from them. Some may be more willing to open up than others but you keep trying. I'll focus on the family. They'll be the trickiest to get any kind of truth from." His gaze flicked to me. "But use your head and eyes, don't just rely on your magic to tell you something's wrong. I don't want to find your magic screaming for me and to find you strung up for the third time."

My cheeks burned and my defences rose sharply as I scowled at him. "I've learnt, Grigore. I won't get myself eaten by anything nor give myself over."

He smiled roughly. "I've yet to see it." He said deeply, his amusement thickening at my annoyance briefly before steeling, his expression becoming stony. "But, if anything does happen or if Filip ends up getting you alone, sing for me. I'll come to you. You're my priority and the one thing I actually care to keep safe in that manor."

My blush shifted from embarrassment to flustered and my heart fluttered at the determination rising in him and the danger of his magic blanketing me protectively. "I will." I promised softly.

He grunted in acceptance and his attention flicked to Milcent as she waded through the crowd, armed with a tray of food. I thanked her as she shoved the pile of food under my nose and a tankard of strong ale for Grigore, giving me a bright smile before hurrying off. I sat and picked at the food, slowly eating what I could of the fat meats, potatoes and vegetables. At first I watched the people around us, listening to their songs and laughter, but my attention was slowly drawn to Grigore. He leaned heavily back in his chair, arms folded and eyes closed, trying to shut out the world.