Finally, he could sit down. He eased into the desk in the young women's wing office. It was lights out in a half hour. Any minute, Wynne would come with a bed count… how many young ladies were where they were supposed to be and if any were missing.
He penned the simple missive for the day: "Unremarkable. No disturbances." The same thing, day after day.
A knock disturbed him. Ah, Wynne. "Come," he said.
The door creaked open slowly, and impatience flickered through him. Where was the industrious, assertive Wynne?
His breath caught. It wasn't Wynne. It was her. Miranne.
"S-s-ser Drass?"
"Yes?" he asked, trying to keep the tremor from her voice. What was Wynne thinking sending this young woman in here? The poor creature was trembling like the last leaf clinging to the last branch of the fall.
"I-I-I'm.. Wynne said… she wants… I'm supposed to…"
He waited. He knew she stuttered. She had since she'd arrived. He would never belittled her about it as the others did. It was a big joke around the tower. But not to him. It endeared her to him in a way he didn't understand.
It made him want to protect her, instead of protecting from her. Who needed protection from this gentle, kind creature? This mage… this quiet, shy, retiring mage?
"…supposed to give you… t-t-tell you, t-tell you the bed count." She swallowed compulsively and grabbed her robe, as if it could protect her from him.
"All present?" he asked, to make it easier for her so that she wouldn't have to spell it out for him. He didn't really need her to do so.
"Yes, S-s-ser," she said.
He sat back and drank in the sight of her for a moment. She was slender, but surprisingly well endowed. Not that he'd looked! He hadn't looked!
Not every time, he allowed.
Strawberry colored hair curled around her shoulders, and a light sprinkle of tiny freckles covered her skin. She was pale, even more than most—and that said a lot in the Tower where sunshine was a privilege and not a right.
"Thank you, Miranne," he said.
She jumped, as if shocked that he knew her name. Then she scurried away, and he felt a sense of relief and yet disappointment run through him. At least he wasn't ogling anymore.
Ogling was bad. Right?