Disclamer: Everything belongs to Tammy. Whatever. You know the drill.
The Story of the Handkerchief------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A door slammed.
A bird chirped.
The wind blew.
Kanaidia, resident of Carthak, settled down more comfortably into her soft velvet chair and turned her head towards the small desk beside her. A piece of parchment sat there. A quill. Two history books and a silk scarf. A sock. And a square of soft white Carthaki cotton, half hemmed up, plopped down between the history books and the sock. It begged to be sewn on. Kanaidia picked it up happily, and placed it on her lap, already imagining how it would look when it was done.
Okay, maybe she was overreacting about a handkerchief. But it was, after all, a Midwinter present to her favorite sister, Varice, and it was after all, the prettiest handkerchief she would ever make.
She sewed.
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"Happy Midwinter, Varice!" Her sister greeted her happily.
"Happy Midwinter, Kanaidia!" Varice hugged her sister just as heartily, noticing the small, soft package in her hand, wondering what her present was.
Leading Kanaidia into her rooms, she snatched a small wrapped object off of her bed, not bothering to remove the sock that lay on the pillow.
"Now, for presents!" Varice exclaimed, a mischievous grin spreading over her face.
Kanaidia's grin matched Varice's, and the two women climbed up onto the bed. Unwrapping presents was the best part of Midwinter for the sisters. The wrapping paper, torn up, served as perfect confetti after the receiving of presents.
They handed each other the presents, and started ripping.
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"Arram," called a voice from the door, "we need to talk."
Numair looked up from the spell book and saw, with irritation, that the shape blocking the light from the doorway was, unfortunately, Varice. She walked into his room and closed the door, the stench of her perfume making him more homesick than ever to be back home in Tortall, in the pastures, teaching Daine the many uses of her amazing magic.
"I understand you have friends now," she murmured, "close ones."
"Yes." He replied.
"Like that Alanna Cooper. And the Duke. And… your student," she continued, "I supposed you've moved on."
"Yes, Varice, I have," said Numair, trying not to breathe with his nose.
She looked at him with cocked eyebrows, wondering if he had a new lover. It was obvious that his student, Dine, fancied him, and although she knew her relationship with Numair was long gone, it was fun to make her jealous.
"I… I know you have, and I know our… relationship, is over… but… are we still friends?" She pretended to look wistful, absently tossing her Midwinter Gift handkerchief somewhere in the corner of the room.
"Um… sure," said Numair, pretending to look flustered, "Of course."
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The handkerchief had actually landed on the head of a stuffed vulture on display in he corner, like a veil, and stayed there, in the depths of the shadowy room on the desk, right above a sock.
…"is what he did to me!"
Daine Sarrasri exclaimed, rubbing her hands on her breeches. She walked towards the vulture, and pulled off the handkerchief, studied it, promptly frowned at the embroidered V on it, and angrily stuck it into the pocket of her coarse tan breeches.
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When Daine got back to her rooms, she put the vulture on the bed and remembered. Kaddar was planning on taking her somewhere.
She quickly changed into thinner breeches, leaving her tan ones with the handkerchief in them on the floor next to a sock, and left with Kaddar.
A slave walked into her room, picked up the sock and the breeches and a lavender sash, and put them into the washing hamper, walking towards the washing room, through the hall.
She didn't notice the white cotton handkerchief that fell out of the hamper and landed on the floor.
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A mage walked briskly through the hall, when he came across a white handkerchief lying in his path.
Mildly annoyed, he incinerated it.
THE END.
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