Guardian (Sequel to Fearless)

Chapter Fifty Nine

"What do you do for a living?" Renna asked, and propped herself against the wall. "What effort do you bring to help support a family?"

Azabela snorted, unable to help herself. "I just flutter my eyes and look pretty for your niece. She supports me." It was an obvious jest. "Only joking. You have to be the only woman I've ever met that actually has ever asked me that. Let's see, I'm an archer, and I cook what I hunt. Meaning I quite literally put a good bit of food on the table. I do most of the cleaning with Dane, and I also work gathering herbs for my grandmother. She's a medic, so I get her what she needs... and on a lot of her trips, Dane and I help her sell her medicine. She's a traveling merchant. Sometimes, when it calls for it, I'll help her treat people. We make an honest living that way."

"Wait a minute, gods damn it," Renna stopped the huntress, rubbing her temples. "Who is your grandmother?"

"Her name is Sorella," Azabela answered earnestly.

"Sorella what?"

"Havers," came the reply. "She owns Havers' Herbs and Healing."

Renna opened her eyes and exhaled through her nose. "Well, I'll be damned." She took a good look at Azabela. "I know who you are." She stood back from the wall. "I think. I know your grandmother, as she used to help treat my brother's knee, especially in his later years. We've been to her shop quite a few times actually for medicines." Iris's aunt stepped forward towards the huntress. "You've sold us medicine before on a few occasions, I believe. You're that girl that wears the wrapped braids, tight leather pants, and the little scraps of shirt that barely count as clothing. If I'm not mistaken, that is." Renna knew at that moment that she was not, in fact, mistaken.

The color drained right from Azabela's face. The room was silent for a second. Hench let out a single, loud laugh, unable to help herself. For a second, it drew everyone's attention on her. When Azabela shot her a sharp look, the mighty woman stifled her amusement immediately and did her best to neutralize her expression.

When the attention fell back on the huntress for the most part, Iris still looked at her sister. Hench's lips teased a smirk, but otherwise, she was subdued. She met Iris's eyes, and her lip twitched further, betraying her composure even further.

"I don't know what to say," Azabela finally answered. "I am sorry if I've ever offended you."

Renna silenced her with a hand. "What do you do when you're not hunting or helping your grandmother?"

"I spend a lot of time with Dane and Rhalla." Azabela smiled off somewhere a thousand miles away. "I like to dance sometimes. Not that I get to do that often."

"What kind of dancing?" Renna asked, intrigued.

"Interpretive. I'm more of an independent dancer, I guess. I move like I feel. I realize that sounds very silly." Azabela looked down at her feet. "I started dancing when I was five years old. I did it up until I was twelve, when my parents died. I picked it up again some odd years later after I met your niece. I'm decent."

"It doesn't sound silly." Renna chuckled. "I never could move without tripping over my own feet. My hobby was always painting, as I'm sure you can tell by all of my work on the wall."

The huntress looked around. "You're quite good."

Renna smiled a wisp of a smile. "Thank you." They met eyes. "I was like you. When my brother died... I stopped painting for a while. When I was the one who lost Cricket... I stopped painting for over two years. It's funny how art goes away when your heart stops beating." Her eyes glossed over everyone in the room. "Maybe I should start again."

"You should," the huntress encouraged. "It'd be a shame to let a skill like that go to waste." She meant it. Renna was indeed an incredible painter.

"Are you kissing my ass, girl?" The old woman offered up a knowing smile.