Falowik worked the rock and soap on his trousers, close to ripping the fabric, for the heat in his mind found its way to his arms. The beauty of the morning went unnoticed by Falowik as he raged and mulled, his eyes upon his chore.
She had to know he had no money for breakfast, sweet buns or hamshanks or what have you. Why 'Sir Falowik'? There was nothing about him that could suggest nobility. She had seen him for what he was, a needful, beggarly excuse of a man, and had given him things of her own. It meant that he was in her debt twice over: once for having taken things unpaid for; second for allowing her to know him in ways she could use to her advantage. He had bought trouble. The 'Sir Falowik' was a smear. It had to be. How else could he explain the lances of hot irritation he felt within upon hearing the name? But she had shown nothing but kindness, or so it had seemed to him in his weakness. What enchantment had she cast over him? He would have to be more careful.
And how was it that she came so near on this morning with him at such a disadvantage? What purpose did she hold in secret? I'll wait for you by the well, Sir Falowik Why? He could leave and never return and so be free of all this new trouble. No, he could not leave; he owed her too much.
Falowik finished cleaning his clothes, climbed out of the stream, dried, and clothed himself, and walked slowly, reluctantly, to the well to pay a little bit on his debt.
Uien was not at the well. A sigh of relief escaped him. He brought up the water filled bucket and cupping his hand, drank his fill. It might be all he filled his stomach with until he could find what little the earth offered to one whose eyes were trained to it.
"Good morning, Sir Falowik," said a voice lightly behind him. It was her. Rage at the falseness of the title lanced inside him like a hot knife. He steeled himself.
"Good morning, Lady." He turned and faced her, his own face set hard. Her smile was open and free, her bearing glad and winsome. At first. The smile left her eyes and lips, though she kept a semblance of it in place.
"I see the soap's virtue has done its weal upon you. Your hair is gold to match your name. Falowik. 'Malnar' in my speech." She seemed made of human flesh today, not at all a being of fire. Perhaps it was the power of the sun. Or maybe the night had brought an enchantment.
"I am in your debt, Lady. Name a way I can repay you." The semblance of a smile disappeared and her brow furrowed.
"You owe me nothing."
"You gave me a bundle from your possessions." Her eyes dimmed with disappointment, Falowik supposed. "And you know of me as no other does." Her eyes filled with compassion; he did not want that from her. She took a step toward him, her hand reaching to touch his arm. He backed away. She stopped and gazed at him, then let out a breath that seemed like a resignation.
"If pay me you must-" she lifted up her arms to the sky and turned one full circle "-then delight in the day! Let that be your payment."
"It changes nothing." His voice was harsh. He turned away from her, in the direction of the front doors of the Inn.
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