Lys: Morning Dew

Aithne rose fairly quickly, and was pleased to find that her head did not hurt much this morning. She thought she might even be able to eat. She was loath to put on her dirty tunic, when there was promise of a clean one, but she wasn't about to go parading about like a bean sidhe, nor tie herself up in a rug for modesty.

So on it went. She managed to pull some of the tangles out of her hair, wishing she had something with which to tie it back. Oh well. After I wash up, perhaps I'll manage something.

She wanted to make a good impression. She didn't know what she was bought for, but she was a bard's daughter, and even as a slave had spent most of her years as a lady's maid, and she wasn't going to come before her new master looking like something dragged out of the gutter. Not if she could help it.

The Guttersnipe had promised to fetch her, so she assumed she was to wait until then. Still, seeing the light shining through the window, Aithne wondered if she shouldn't be doing something while she waited...

She hit upon a small idea fairly quickly. Turning to the bed- her bed- she folded the rugs and returned them to their place underneath, smoothed out the cushion, and then stepped back and surveyed her work. It was well done, but not much to do.

She must be seeing to her morning duties, whatever they may be. She took some satisfaction from having everything in its place for when the girl returned, though it took much less time than she had wished. On a whim, she unlocked the door and opened it a bit, then sat down on the bed to wait.