In Which Neilor Learns a Little Less Quickly

March 1, 1180

Neilor woke to find the other side of the bed empty, but a narrowed glance over the side of the mattressed showed the girl's dress hadn't moved from where he'd tossed it the night before. He rolled onto his back and sat up. Sure enough--there she was, staring out the window, strawberry blond curls all the way down to her narrow hips. The way she'd been the night before--all charming and witty, leaning into him him, resting her head on his shoulder and even daring nip his ear while still in a crowded inn--had led him to believe she'd know what she was doing, but when he'd taken her home and they'd taken to bed, he'd found otherwise.

Oh, she'd been eager. Not a thing he'd suggested had merited any less than a naughty grin and an earnest willingness to try, but her movements had been awkward and unpracticed, thought that had lessened whenever she'd settled into a particular motion. Not to say he hadn't enjoyed himself, mind--but it had been quite clear that everything she'd done with him, she'd never done before.

What wasn't so clear was why she'd chosen him. He hadn't been the only bachelor at the inn, nor the most handsome of them, nor the highest in standing. He'd never even approached her. She'd been speaking with Lord Severin's stepson when he'd arrived. She'd glanced at him and muttered something to Cuthron, who'd muttered something back. Then she'd latched onto Neilor and before long, he'd been too drunk, moreso on her than on the ale, to question it. It just hadn't occurred to him to wonder, not with a pretty young thing throwing herself at him. Hell, he wasn't sure why it occurred to him now.

"Morning..." Oh God. What was her name, again? "...Tivie?"

The girl snickered. "Sweet of you to remember."

"Heh." He kicked his discarded tunic to the side and approached her. A few scattered freckles dotted her shoulder. He hadn't noticed them in the dark. "You're not cold, are you?"

"Why? Don't like looking at me naked?" She seemed to know that indeed, he did. It was part of her charm, or so he'd found the night before. She seemed to know everything. "I'm fine, thank you. Although I wouldn't mind something to eat before I go--with you as the plate, preferably."

Neilor smirked. He placed his hand on her freckled shoulder and walked his fingers down her back. "That can be arranged."

"Glad to hear it." As was he. It had been a long time since he'd had a virgin, but sex was an instinct. Subsequent encounters with girls he'd deflowered had proven it was a skill set learned quickly. Even a morning-after lay would be a marked improvement over the night before, not that it needed much improving upon.

He had a feeling too that Tivie learned more quickly than most. "Last night was fun."

"It was, wasn't it?" She pulled him into her and landed a kiss on his neck. "I have to confess something, though."

Neilor raised an eyebrow. If it was about her being a virgin until the night prior, he wasn't sure why she felt the need to tell him. Sure, perhaps she'd been a little misleading, but did it really matter? He'd still had sex, hadn't he? "Tivie--"

"Oh, no. I wouldn't have slept with you if I hadn't at least thought you were cute," she assured him with a wink, though assuring him of what, he wasn't quite sure. "But I came all the way from Dovia to find you, and not to sleep with you. You see, I heard my mother mention your name to my aunt--or not your name, specifically, but your mother's name, and that she had a couple children in Naroni--"

Eh? "Uh... what are you talking about?"

The outside sunlight streamed through the window and cast a glimmer on her eyes. They were a particularly deep violet he couldn't believe he'd mistaken for blue. "Sorry. I'm rambling. But I was thinking that maybe you could help me find my father."

He took a step back and studied her eyes from the added distance. They were uncannily like his brother Landus's.

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