Thornhold - Elaine Cunningham [124]
“What?”
“This might sound frivolous,” she warned him.
That amused her friend. “Remember to whom you’re speaking.”
She chuckled and got to the point. “Cara has spent her life on a small, remote farm. Other than her trip to Water-deep as a prisoner and a brief voyage on a slave ship, she hasn’t had a chance to see the world. What better place to begin than Waterdeep?”
He nodded. “Your reasoning is sound. And you should be safe enough. With your permission, I’ll make certain that you are discretely followed and ainpiy protected.”
The years of unseen Harper eyes still rankled. “And if I did not give my permission?”
“Then I would respect your wishes,” he said. “Regretfully, but I would respect them.”
He spoke firmly, with not a hint of his usual lazy drawl. Bronwyn believed him. She smiled and turned to Cara. “Cara, what is your favorite color?”
The little girl looked up, startled by this question. “I don’t think I have one.”
“Well, if you could pick out any dress you liked, what color would it be?”
Feminine longing lit her eyes. “My foster mother wore purple but said I was not to,” she said. “She would not say why.”
Bronwyn had a suspicion concerning this, but she did not want to put words to it, not even in the silence of her own mind. “How about blue? Or yellow?”
Cara nodded, clearly willing to play the game. “Pink, like a sunset cloud.”
That struck a memory. Ellimir Oakstafi a seamstress whose shop was also on the Street of Silks, had a bolt of soft pink silk, a rare color that would be quickly seized by ladies looking for spring gowns. “Come on,” she said, extending a hand. “I know a lady who can make you a dress the color of clouds and just as soft. Let’s go and let her take your measure.”
Cara was on her feet in an instant. “Truly?”
“Truly,” Bronwyn answered. “And then we’ll go for tea and see all there is to see in the City of Splendors.”
Cara looked suddenly suspicious. “This is not just a game?”
Bronwyn laughed, but her eyes stung. At Cara’s age, she had had none of these experiences, either. She thought she knew what this would mean to the girl.
Bidding farewell to the Harper bard, Bronwyn kept her promise and bought Cara the pink gown and two more along with it. They had tea and sugared wine at Gounar’s Tavern, a glittering eatery in the heart of the Sea Ward. The taproom was brightly lit by dozens of magical globes, and mirrored glass tossed back the light to every corner, there to be captured by the cunningly faceted crystals and imitation gems that studded everything from plate to chairs.
As Bronwyn expected, Cara was enchanted by the display. Too excited to eat, she clutched her goblet of sugared wine and water-much more sugar than wine, and more water than either-and looked around with boundless curiosity. Her silence lasted until they left the tavern, then she exploded into questions, wanting to know about everything they passed.
Bronwyn shook her head as she followed Cara down the street, amazed at her own feelings. Every moment she spent with the child only made the prospect of giving her up more difficult. But this gift, this single day of adventure and lighthearted pleasure, this she could give.
Wanting to show Cara as much as possible, she hailed a carriage and bid the driver to show them the sights. They rode down along the sea wall, marveling at the vast and ornamental mansions, and the ninety-foot statue of a warrior that looked out impassively to sea. They drove past Aighairon’s Tower, and Cara shivered at the story of the long-ago wizard and the skeleton of the man who had tried to steal this power. She oohed over Piergeiron’s Palace, craned her neck to watch the griffin patrols pass. At the Plinth-the obelisk that served as a house of prayer for people of all faiths-she looked faintly puzzled.
“My foster parents prayed-so did my father-but they would not teach me or name a god I should pray to.”
Bronwyn’s suspicions regarding this mysterious faith deepened, as did her puzzlement as to why this Dag Zoreth seemed so determined to keep his daughter ignorant of his faith. “You’ll