In Which Nora Learns What Art Is

August 28, 1157

Pregnancy did not sit well with Ailede, and it seemed that everyone who knew either herself or Falidor was well aware of that fact. As Falidor was obviously exhausted from running around doing absolutely everything his wife--"in her frail condition"--told him to do, Lord Severin had placed Falidor on "paternity leave", a concept which apparently both amused and sickened the king. "Such a thing," Nora had heard him from inside Lord Severin's office, "will never catch on."

On her brother's behalf, Nora was grateful for this break, even if it meant that she herself had been allotted some of his duties in his absence. She didn't mind the work, really--actually, it was rather nice, seeing so many new places. The carpenter's shop in the village, for instance, was a building in which she had never set foot.

"Good day, mistress," greeted the man seated at the table; she couldn't help but notice that he was rather handsome.

"Good day to you too, master" she replied. "Are you Jothein?"

He nodded. "How may I be of service, Mistress--?"

"Leonora," Nora introduced herself, "but you can call me Nora."

"Then I shall," he assured her with a grin.

Returning the smile, she made her way over to his table and examined the large, oddly-shaped piece of wood in front of him. She had to admit that it confused her; never before had she seen anything quite like it.

"Do you like it?" asked Jothein; it was clear from his tone that he had a certain attachment to his work, and this project was no exception.

"I do," she assured him. Then--

"Er... what is it?"

Maybe she shouldn't have asked; perhaps she had offended him.

But to her great surprise and relief, he leapt to his feet in delight. "Exactly! I haven't quite figured that out yet myself; it could be anything."

"Its ambiguity is charming," mused Nora aloud.

Jothein nodded in agreement. "Oftentimes, ambiguity can be a beautiful thing. But speaking of beautiful things, Nora, what is it that brings a lovely young flower such as yourself to my humble shop?"

"Oh, I'm on a favor for Lord Severin," she explained briefly; as if she could ever afford any of the splendid things his shop held!

The carpenter's face perked up in interest. "Really? I've heard Lord Severin had a pretty steward, but I must say I'm caught off-guard by just how true that rumor is."

Nora giggled slightly, but decided to proceed to the point. "First of all, he wishes to compliment your work--the cradle is among the finest he's ever seen."

The carpenter's eyes widened. "Really? I never expected that I would receive such a fine compliment from a great lord. You must thank him for me."

"I shall," Nora agreed, "but first, I must place another order on his behalf. You see, he is taking Lady Alina's nephew as a page, and requests that you make a set of furniture for the boy's bedroom. He is willing to pay you quite handsomely."

His eyes alight with a newfound confidence, he made his way to her side of the table. "I would be honored--and tell him it will be a gift."

Oh, those eyes! The blue-gray of a beautiful winter morning! Perhaps that had been the color of the day she was born--she hoped so. What a lovely sky to be born under!

Finally, she regained her senses for long enough to reply. "Lord Severin will be pleased."

There--five intelligent words. Could she ask any more of herself?

"I hope he will be. Meanwhile, it was a pleasure to meet you, Nora," Jothein addressed her.

"You as well," she acknowledged. "You have a very fine shop."

"Thank you."

It was true; every piece the room held had been made with such refined skill, such incredible passion. He made his tables not with hammers and nails and blades, but with the quill of a poet; his engravings were not carved by a knife, but by a painter's brush. Over the course of her fifteen and a half years, Nora had been exposed to many kinds of men, but Jothein was a new breed entirely.

He was an artist.

"Jothein!" she called, stopping at the door. "I know what it is you're working on there!"

He smiled at her once more, revealing his strong, white teeth. "Yes, Nora?"

She returned the grin. "It's art."

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