When her tears were spent, Athelia stood. She rubbed grimy hands across her cheeks. The sand on her palms scraped across her skin. She swallowed the rising sobs, forcing them into tight submission. Now was not the time. A quick glance at the sky, counting the points, made her hitch her divided skirt up by her knees and run for the adobe house.

Lady Madine had arranged to be measured today. If she saw Athelia in this condition, she might try to come in on a different day. Athelia needed the money already. With the child on the way, she needed it sooner rather than later.

Darting into the small cottage, she dipped her fingers in a small basin just within the door. The alcove of every Mara house held one, a reminder of the precious rarity of water. A square of fabric rested beside it. She dabbed at the water gingerly, scrubbing the tiny granules of sand from her arms and face. A quick check in a bit of polished glass revealed a hint of puffy red around her violet eyes, but fading quickly.

She spun away from the sight and hurried into the main living area. A small corner of it belonged to her alone. Carved out of wood as gnarled as his hands, her grandfather had given her the old rocking chair. A knitted blanket draped over its back, while a carefully embroidered cushion softened the dark wood. A woven basket beside it held her first love: books.

The rest of the well-lit chamber functioned as her workroom. A half-sewn quilt draped over a table, weighted down by bolts of fabric in various shades. A dress, the heads of pins glinting in various places, hung on a roughly-hewn mannequin.

Athelia stood in the center. Closing her eyes, she forced herself to breathe slow and steady, counting to five between each breath. Her heart beat slowed. It would not do for Lady Madine to find her nervous and unsteady.

Calm again, she fingered the edge of the gown. The fine green satin, though heavier than a linka, had an appealing softness. The color would brighten the otherwise drab appearance of Lady Madine, though do nothing to hide the portly girth beneath it.

Athelia smiled. Though too expensive for her meager budget, the satin would be both pleasant and becoming to wear. Her honey-brown tresses, if ever tamed from their unruly cascade, would shine against the emerald-hued fabric. While working on the gown, she could imagine herself wrapped in its beauty, stunning the young men as her sister had done four years ago. Her smile faltered. After marrying shortly thereafter, her sister’s yearly visits had stopped.

At the edge of her vision, Athelia spotted a furtive movement. She whirled. A slender man stood there. The rocking chair had hidden him from her sight. She took a step back. Her hip brushed against the worktable. "What do you want? How did you get in here?"

His eyes narrowed. She noted with relief that they were chunks of ebony, and not the hated blue. Though this was the northernmost province of the Mara, Lodear was not immune to raids by Eloin. Two of her childhood friends, caught wandering at night by a rogue band of "Others," had returned to their homes beaten, and ravished. Keeping an eye on him, she fingered the needles and scissors spread haphazardly across the table.

"Are you Athelia?" His voice held the slight huskiness of an Eastar accent.

"Why?" She gave him a cursory glance. He didn’t seem like a robber or the type that came sneaking into people’s houses. His shirt was neatly laced and clean; his dark hair had been shorn at chin-length. A scar trailed from the corner of one eye and disappeared beneath his jaw, marring his rugged features.

"Did he not mention me?" he said.

"Who?"

His eyebrows slashed dark lines across his face. "Endry. Did he mention me at all?"

Athelia hesitated. "He mentioned that someone would come to...You’re not him, are you?"

His eyes darkened. "Why? Do I not please you?"

Athelia swallowed. This was the man Endry had promised her? As her body swelled with child, the rumors would fly. No self-respecting vendor would sell food to a "harlot". Endry had reassured her that another man would protect her from that fate.

A sharp rap on the door saved her from replying. "That’s Lady Madine. If she sees you here…" her voice trailed off.

The man frowned. She didn’t have time to argue. "Look, if I lose her business, I lose most of my seamstress trade. If you want the child and I to starve, then stay. If not, you can go outside for now and come back when she’s gone."

Rather than waiting for him to respond, Athelia whirled and raced for the door. Another firm knock met her before she swung it wide. She dipped her head at the finely-dressed woman. "Lady Madine, so good of you to come."

"This better be quick." Her nasal tone grated on Athelia’s nerves, but she plastered a smile on her face and motioned the woman in. Shoving her sand-speckled linka into Athelia’s hands, Lady Madine stalked past her.

Her voice floated out of the workroom. "I simply must hurry today. There is quite a fuss in the neighboring village. It seems Lord Marlin has had a liaison with a young servant girl. Simply scandalous!" She sniffed in distaste. "I need to comfort his wife in this appalling affair."

Athelia stepped into the room, keeping her face impassive. Lady Madine was the town gossip. "If you’ll step over there, milady, I’ll get to work."

"Certainly." Lady Madine crossed to the mannequin, turned, and then screeched. Her face drained of color. "Who is that? What is he doing here?"

Athelia glanced at the chair, though she knew who would be there. The same man glared at her. His angry expression faded into a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. To Athelia’s surprise, his reaction befitted a royal court. He brought his heels together and bent from the waist in a courtly bow. "Forgive me, milady. I did not mean to startle you."

Lady Madine squinted at him. "Who are you?"

"I am Arioch, Athelia’s betrothed."

Athelia gasped, and then choked it down, transforming it into a raspy cough. Lady Madine glanced at her and then back to Arioch. "I have not seen you before." Suspicion laced her tone.

"Athelia and I met in Eastar four months ago, but my tour of duty did not end until now."

Lady Madine eyed him for a moment, but Arioch was a smooth liar, clearly. She turned away after a moment, glancing at Athelia. "I never would have pegged you to marry a soldier, but I suppose a spinster must take what she can."

Athelia winced. As the Lady turned to fire a scathing comment at the soldier, he interrupted, "If you’ll pardon me, milady. My horse needs tending after his hard ride." Dipping his head, Arioch left.

Athelia wanted to groan. If he was going to make things difficult, the least he could do was stay. Lady Madine would have had to divide her comments between them, but not now. She would get the full brunt of the Lady’s wagging tongue.

"Lady Madine, if you please?" To save from answering questions, especially the ones she did not have the answer to, Athelia put a handful of pins in her mouth and bent to work.