Shadows danced across the wall where a shaft of amber from the half-drawn drapes parted the gloom. Ardith sat in the dark, hands held up to the afternoon light, fingers moving. A shadow dog, a rabbit, a bird… It was a child’s game, really, but it amused her greatly. A slight smile played over her lips as she paused from her play to take a good look at the dim room. There were all manner of interesting objects in the room: ornate vases (some chipped but undoubtedly are still costly), figurines of cleverly sculpted stone and horn, assorted trinkets, daggers…
Ah, now that is so much more interesting than antique vases.
Getting to her feet, the young woman made her way to the glass case housing them. Such a nice house, she thought and the smile was wiped from her face, too bad the man who owns it is a complete monkey.
Rustling from her left snapped Ardith out of her musings, making her straighten up and turn to it. To the doorway where a young man, perhaps a year or two older than her, stood and glared at her. Her eyes took on a narrow and mean look upon his posing the question. How rude. If anything, she’s a guest here. Mazhar himself escorted her to the place, which he said is his home. Hopefully, he didn’t lie to her about it.
“Who else do you think?” she snarled and added, unthinking yet sarcastically, “Mazhar’s wife.”
nightdrawndagger
