Jeanne: Let Not the Sun

Druce crossed the rest of the distance and came up to his friend before Jason could turn to leave, if he had wanted to. The horses were saddled and ready to go, but Lucius had to dispose of his fishnets before they could be away: it gave Druce a moment to corner Jason. He took a good look at the other man's face first, under the pretext of helping to test the mare's harness, and found it less stiff and angry than it had been in the light of the atrium. Jason was not a man to keep his anger before him at all times, for his disposition was toward cheer and not dark resentment.

Yet he did resent the woman, Druce saw. His ire had ebbed, but it had not gone out entirely: it still showed in something in his eye, even as he stroked the horses' wet, smooth noses and murmured with a half smile on his lips. Druce caught all this, and for a moment he thought he would not ask - but, he mused, he said he was not angry with me. I shall ask him now, so I may know next time - he grimaced - I encounter her.

Lucius was out of earshot, and Druce, twisting strands of wet mane around his fingers in an idle motion, said, "Who was that girl?"

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