Apparently, there is a limit to how much you can upload. Who knew? Anyway, this is the rest of "Blue Canvas". Sorry about that! R and R, please! Thanks everyone!

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"That didn't stop you with what's-his-name…Jonathan. Or Eryc. Or Ethan, for that matter."

"I did not know he was my Captain at the time. We were both surprised the next morning when he asked me why I was in town."

Andreya paused. "Was he any good in bed?"

"Andreya! The man is dead! Have some respect!"

"Ah, Andreya. I am pleased to see you on your feet."

Both women turned, hands on sword hilts, to find Captain Jeremy Munchous standing behind them. He was out of uniform, clad only in a clean white shirt, brown breaches and a dark woolen sweater, with a thick cloak swirling around him. Andreya gave him a slight nod and a chill look.

"Captain. What brings you out here on this cold afternoon?" Even as Andreya asked, a snowflake settled on the shoulder of his cloak.

He held up a package with his name marked on it and a mark on it that Acacia recognized as Damini's. "Needed to get some repairs done on some armor."

Acacia cocked an eyebrow. "A piece Damini made needed repairs?"

Captain Munchous had the good grace to look caught. "Actually, she did not make it. I took it to her to get it repaired and to add a charm to it to keep it from rusting. You know of Damini shena Talesedrine?"

"You could say that. Why didn't you have her make you new armor instead of charming old armor? The new armor would be much better."

"Captains of the City Guard do not make so much that we can afford to buy new armor from someone like the Smithmage."

"Why didn't you just say you were getting the old armor charmed?"

Andreya snorted and turned back to fingering some cloth. "He didn't want the newest assassin in town to know that his armor is not quite as good as he claims it is."

Behind her back, the Captain looked hurt. He hid it quickly. The old woman had frozen at the word "assassin." Now she shoved the package of ribbons at Acacia and turned to Andreya, who was looking interested in the fabric, which was a dark blue canvas that would make a good shirt to wear under armor.

"It's not for sale." The woman's voice was curt.

Andreya froze for a fraction of a second, then slowly pulled her hand away from the cloth. "That's a shame. It's good cloth." Then she turned to Acacia. "Have you found what you needed? It's starting to snow and I'd like to be near a warm fire."

"Um…almost. Here, Captain, you're going back to the Palace, right?"

Munchous nodded. "Yes." In reality, he had been heading back to his tiny little room over a nice little bakery that provided him with free bread, but if it meant gleaning more information out of Andreya, he would detour to the Palace.

"Good. Why don't you go with Andreya? Herald-Captain Kerowyn asked Andreya to always be around people that can alibi her. You seem like a pretty good candidate."

He nodded and gestured in the direction of the Palace. "Guildswoman Andreya."

Andreya raised an eyebrow at Acacia, then turned to head back to the Palace, pulling her cloak tighter around her. Once Andreya was out of sight, Acacia turned back to the old woman.

"I need a few yards of the blue cloth."

"I'm not selling it to you, either. I'll not be helping an assassin be comfortable. And for you to be bringing one into the Palace is sacrilege."

"Normally, she would be the first person to tell you that." Acacia nodded in the direction Andreya had left with Munchous. "But let me give you something to think on, other than that you just made an assassin very upset." The old woman paled at that. "Someone has to train those Heralds, am I wrong? Now, last time I checked, there aren't exactly any Heraldic assassins." To the contrary, Acacia was sure there was at least one Heraldic assassin. "So, who do you suppose gets to teach the Trainees how to defend themselves and the Queen against one? No one you would count as honorable, that is for sure. Now, I would like to purchase a few yards of that fabric for the woman who is teaching those Trainees how to defend themselves, because she liked the cloth, needs a new canvas shirt and I want to get her a Midwinter gift. If you don't have any more moral objections to selling the cloth…"

By now the old woman was flushing in embarrassment. She picked up a pair of shears, cut a few yards off the bolt, wrapped the fabric and handed it Acacia. "Take it." She shook her head when Acacia reached for her beltpurse. "Just take it and go."