Talia, p. 62

There are thieves in the Inns again. The little fool broke into my room when he thought I was sleeping. He’s lucky I didn’t slit his throat rather than staying in the shadows until he left. He had robbed another man, the guards already waiting at the door for him. He must be daft, for he tried to run. He fell with two arrows, blunt tips, once again more merciful than he deserved. Hopefully a night in the cells will get him to rethink his actions in the future. I know his face, and if he tries again, I will be ready.

Elsbeth found me later, preparing to work at the loom. She gave me a few items, a few I recognized. I think she really does not expect to survive. I realized this as she walked away, and for once, the voice that had for so long remained silent, called out to her. Giving the gift to her was awkward. I had kept it for so long, but the thought of never having the chance again propelled me to action. Did she understand? Do I? I know we can never be, but still my heart holds on to that one hope, foolish as always.


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