Page 86 of Mountain of Mirrors and Starlight
“This is purely for cosmetic reasons,” Flora mumbled.
“My guts were hanging out, good doctor,” Dillon said. “It was a bit disconcerting.”
Aislinn hovered over him. “How are you doing?”
“Um, well, decidedly glad for my mortal lies, I have to say, but I think I’m doing all right, all things considered.”
Aislinn bent down and squeezed his shoulder. It was as cold as ice, grey as deerhide. She tried not to stare.
“All done!” Luna declared, holding up his clothes. The dark stain remained, although her stitching was meticulous. “I, er, couldn’t do anything about the blood…”
“It’s fine,” Dillon said, in the same way Aislinn’s mother did whenever she was trying to hide her true feelings. She wondered if it was a mortal thing, although Aoife never spoke like that, nor Aunt Iona. He said itexactlylike her, in a way that was hard to pin.
“Here,” Beau said, taking the garments from Luna’s grip. He waved his hands over the stains, drawing out the darkness until only mudded white remained. He handed the uniform to Dillon. “Arise, Ser Dillon,” he said. “Knight of the Realm.”
Dillon smiled. “Thank you,” he said.
Stitching done, he pulled the clothes over his head and finished dressing himself. Luna got to work cooking the weird, rodent-like creatures Diana had procured. Aislinn was sure it wouldn’t be much better than slurg, but it would, at least, not be slurg.
The dwarves swapped pleasantries with Dillon as the meal was coming along.
“So, Dillon,” Bell started, “where are you from?”
“Acanthia,” he explained. “Fifty years ago, apparently.”
“And you were a knight?”
Dillon shook his head. “Palace guard, for the most part—assistant stablemaster before then.”
“Good profession,” Minerva said, as if mucking out horses far outweighed the honour of being a knight.
Bell raised an eyebrow as if trying to say“really, dear?”without insulting their guest.
“Anyone can be brave for a short amount of time,” Minerva said, reading her look. “Much harder and more honourable to make a slow, honest living, in my opinion.”
“That’s her way of saying she’s terrible at mucking out the stables.”
“I have one arm, woman!”
“Youknowthat’s not the reason.”
“I have one arm and a pair of eyes that justdon’t see dirt.”
Bell pursed her lips. “Pampered princess.”
“Filthy ruffian.”
They leaned over their plate of roasted cave-rodent and nuzzled their noses together.
“How long have you been married?” Dillon asked, smiling softly.
“Oh, fifty years?” Minerva said.
“Fifty-seven,” Bell corrected. “But we were on-and-off for a couple of decades before that.”
“Why was that?” Dillon asked.
“I wasn’t sure I wanted to be a queen,” Bell said. A pause followed, like this was some great confession. “I was her general before that.”
