But she found herself confiding in Rue. She told him about the night of her father's death. Told him about her mother's collapse and her sister's withdrawal into herself. And she talked about the friendless years of her youth. She was glad that those years were over. Maybe she could depend upon Rue.
At any rate, they became closer, despite Brachet's earlier misgivings. She found herself trusting the stranger, as he became less and less strange and more and more a close friend. Rue was a jester some times, a confidante others, but Brachet also began to see another side to him. He was a gentleman, and quite dashing at times. Although she scorned the traditional coat-across-a-puddle routine and laughed in his face when he attempted it, she was rather pleased with him. He was charming.
One day he surprised her by scooping fresh snow into a ball. He then disappeared behind some a large tree with a knife and a little tin cup, and returned with sweet sugar-syrup, which he drizzled over the snow. It was delicious, and Brachet found herself enjoying some aspects of winter whereas before she had despised the finger-numbing season.
Under the snow Rue found a struggling flower, and presented it to Brachet by sneaking up on her and tucking it behind her ear. She smiled as his fingers lingered longer on her hair than was really necessary.
But the best day of her life was spent at night with Rue.
Brachet had been frustrated that her tracking skills hadn't amounted to anything; they had not yet found Lothe and avenged her father's death. She sat alone, on a hill, under the stars, cold. A little tear trickled unbidden down her cheek and froze before it could be brushed off.
Suddenly, Rue appeared beside her with a blanket (which he wrapped around her shivering shoulders), and sat down silently. He gazed up at the stars.
"You ever wonder if they know they are so beautiful?" he asked, out of the blue. Brachet glanced at him.
"They just light up the night, without any trouble at all," Rue continued, smiling. "They give great joy to everything and everyone around them." He looked at Brachet. "Some people are like that. In fact, I have the pleasure of knowing a person who, if she chose, could be a star. She is that brilliant."
Brachet sighed. "Really?"
Rue smiled wider. "Truly. She is radiant."
"Oh Rue, I'm not radiant," Brachet murmured, fishing for a compliment. Rue pretended surprise.
"What, you thought I meant you?" He grinned and hugged Brachet as her face went red..
"You were right, m'lady." He kissed her cheek, warming the tear and unfreezing it, then brushing it away ever so gently. Brachet smiled back at him and offered him a portion of the blanket (which he accepted. It was very cold that night, after all). Brachet stared at his face, unknowingly committing it to memory, before drifting off.
Brachet was awakened in the middle of the night by loud laughter and the sounds of a party. She shook Rue gently, then harder.
"Rue! Ruuuue! Rue'mynn!" she whispered sharply, her eyes scanning the darkness, trying to pierce its shadowy secrets. Rue groaned sleepily and sat up.
"What is it?"
"Listen." They both listened for a moment, and then without a word gathered up the blanket and tucked it away in a saddle bag. However, they left the horses for fear they would make too much noise. Brachet grabbed her long-bladed sword and tossed Rue a short fat dagger, and silently crept toward the noise.
The noise came from a clearing some yards away. Peering out of the bushes, Brachet saw the bandits she had been searching for! Lothe was having a feast. He sat next to a roaring fire, his bandits around him, fat and drunk, eating a roast ryanth. Brachet turned to Rue.
What happens Next?
