In Which Aspen Begins Her Search

April 13, 1177

Aspen didn't care much for her most recent job, but when it came down to it, she didn't mind working in the kitchens so long as it got her out of the tavern. Her work dress wasn't exactly modest and she didn't care for the drunken leers and slurred innuendos, even if she had little enough to ogle. Not to mention, as far as anyone knew, she was still back in Dovia. She hadn't worked up the courage to visit Rona just yet and she didn't want to risk a run-in with a mutual acquaintance; the last thing she wanted was for Rona to think she was avoiding her.

Of course, if the talk in the tavern was true, that was the last thing on Rona's mind. Aspen tightened her grip on the spoon she was scrubbing. How could he? Yes, she'd known Lorn had been struggling to find Rona a husband... but staging a tournament for her hand like she was a sack of gold coins? Their parents were probably mortified. Poor Rona was probably beside herself.

And why shouldn't she be? She had no control over who would win the tournament. Perhaps it would be some so-called gentleman only after a knighthood who just happened to be better than the rest. Worse, it could have been some social-climbing mama's boy who was more interested in having Lorn as a brother-in-law than having Rona for a wife. Or--God forbid--what if it was some brute chasing wealth and glory, some vile thug who wanted a well-born lady on his arm but wouldn't hesitate to smack her around when all eyes were turned? No. No... she couldn't let that happen. Not to Rona.

If only there was something she could do, some way she could help. As if Lorn would listen to her if she showed up and gave him a piece of her mind, if she could even summon the guts to do so in the first place. Maybe she could appeal to Rona's mother, ask her if Rona could at least have her pick of the top ten or so... no. No, Rona's mother was married to Lonriad's uncle, so there was likely a loyalty issue there.

Hmm. Seemed the only thing to do would be to keep an eye out for any worthy champion and make sure he entered the tournament. Of course, that was nothing when she couldn't guarantee he'd win.

Still, it wasn't as if the inn didn't get the odd well-mannered, unmarried male patron who looked like he could hold his own in battle. And the more competition there was, then the lower the odds of any given brute's triumph were...

"Aspen!" Seoth called from the next room. "Aspen, I'm running out of mugs."

"Just a second!" She let the spoon drop to the bottom of the basin and shook her hands over the scalding water before wiping them on her apron. It was a rowdy night and she didn't care to venture back to the bar, but if Seoth needed more mugs then he had more customers. Maybe one of those customers would be just who she was looking for.

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