Leandra sat in the tavern sipping her mead, holding the letters that seemed to have taken too long to arrive. The woman needed to devise a way to remind her family that she is staying away of her own accord, that would not compromise the sense of duty and arrangement with her family that had led to her to staying away. A certain fairy came to mind causing Leandra to smirk at the letters, fairies were known to like mischief and to adore the breaking of deals. Surely they were not fond of deal breakers. Raya, as the little one liked to be called, had received help from Leandra. Surely causing some mischief on a deal breaker would not be too much to ask of the fey in return for the help Leandra had provided her.
The fey often seemed uncomfortable with just receiving help without cost, this was something Leandra needed that the fey could do as payment. These thoughts allowed Leandra to accept the idea that this would be not asking much of, or anything unfair of5 the fey. Then, if after all if they were friends like the fairy addressed her, was it really asking anything? The idea of the fairy being her friend changed the woman’s expression to contemplation. The woman drank again from her cup, Leandra was not quite sure they were friends, though she definitely enjoyed getting/making things for the fairy and found her amusing. Leandra willfully ignored the fact that, either way, Raya was the closest being the woman had to a friend.
Smiling Leandra imagined sending the fairy to meet her family, trying to imagine what sort of pranks she would play. Of course, Raya seemed kind of timid. Maybe Leandra would have to wait until the fey found more of her own kind. The woman frowned realizing she had not seen her small friend in a while. Had the fairy gotten herself lost again; it had happened before. Unease filled the woman, Raya had promised to tell her before she left for her own kind, and surely, she wouldn’t have abandoned her. The woman reminded herself that she had to gate travel to retrieve the fairy before and fairies did not break deals. Had the fey gotten herself into trouble? Scratching out a note to herself to look for the fairy, the woman turned her attention to the letters.
Opening the first addressed from her father, she found the agreed upon currency and a note that was either filled with insincere apologies or sniveling, and Leandra was not sure which was worse. Rolling her eyes, the woman took another drink of her mead and set it aside. She would burn it later, to erase the world of the insincerity or sniveling. The woman’s eyes widened in surprise, her sister had written her. That had taken a lot of nerve.
Finishing the last of her drink the woman settled in, easing her face to a neutral expression: this should be good. Her sister telling her parents of Leandra’s musing with spirits and interest in Leandra’s intended fiancé had a lot to do with her current position of being quietly banished. Old emotions flared up as many arguments to the fact that she was not talking to herself and it was not her fault that no one else could see ‘them’ played through her mind. A slight narrowing of the eyes was all that betrayed her irritation.
Opening the letter, the woman rolled her eyes as an invitation to the ball fell out and she skimmed her sister’s trite musings about the ball, her dress and gossip; though some of the gossip itself was amusing. This would have been her reality, too, if Cassie had not been against her. Cassandra and Leandra, this time the woman rolled her eyes at her parents naming scheme, clearly they liked ‘Andra’. It was a good thing that she had set out on her own, they had not understood her and had been against trying to understand her anyway. It was not her fault they had been too close minded to see what Leandra saw.
Spirits, not figments of her imagination, were present in the world. The fact that others missed this was what had led Leandra down the path of an outcast. The only reason she did not cut all contact with her family, to teach them a lesson, was to get the tithe she was due for them having her act as if she was wrong. That and keeping up with the gossip, it would be embarrassing to not know what was going on once she got this all sorted out. Leandra transcribed the more interesting gossip she could parse from her sisters’ inane ramblings onto her list.
As she planned her response to her sister, deciding that her father’s letter had been sniveling, she promptly set it on fire, dropping it and letting it smoke in her now empty glass. Proof that Lord Berolt was a bleating idiot need not exist in this world. Even if it was him begging his own daughter to pardon him from a poor decision he made for her due to his own witless perception. He would regret the day if Leandra ever found herself without interest in preserving their name and, to a lesser extent of course, without need of his aide.
Deciding her sister was not worth writing at the moment, Leandra turned her attention to the tavern she was occupying. The tavern seemed to be doing well judging by its occupancy. Leandra supposed this made sense, even if the mead was one of the only reasons Leandra found this place acceptable. Some of the occupants looked vaguely familiar, though not particularly interesting, to the woman. It was just likely she had passed them on the street, seen them at the library or served them as she worked as an apprentice and a shop girl for some no named alchemist, who did not seem to appreciate her either.
Making her way to the bar of the tavern, she ordered herself a replacement glass and beverage. While still scanning the crowd, looking for someone to entertain her. If they were good enough at it, maybe she would even let them entertain her for most of the night.
