LOREN
It was almost dawn by the time the Wildwood released the two men and they made their slow way through the snow and the cold. Or at least, Loren was slow and cold: The sight of the Manor ahead of them and the first signs of pink on the horizon caused the Launceleyn to pick up his pace. ”That’s it up ahead. Come on, let’s get inside.” It didn’t take long for the summoner to push through the doors of the Manor, and he simply stood just inside and basked in the much warmer interior. Then he shook his head and stamped the snow from his boots. Spotting a toy—the only sign of some of the other residents of the Manor—Loren sighed and scooped it up. Despite the fact that he hadn’t seen Jace or Beatrix in weeks, he still saw signs of them everywhere, but he was starting to worry. He could understand why they were avoiding him, but it was Deepfrost, now, and he needed them to stay indoors where it was safe.
It took a moment for the summoner to collect his scattered thoughts; he was lethargic from both the cold and the hike and the all nighter, so he just stared at the other man with him for a minute before he found his voice. ”Right. So. We should get you a room then. And…” Glancing around at the entryway, Loren tried to prod his mind into working properly. ”Well, do you need anything else? Sorry, I’m a bit frazzled at the moment.” He pushed his hood back and ran a distracted hand through his hair leaving it sticking up in a not at all artful disheveled look. Between that and his still too stark cheekbones and the dark circles under his eyes the Launceleyn knew that he looked like a mess, not that he really cared about that these days. It wasn’t like he was expecting anyone else to either. Regardless, he gave the other man an apologetic smile for his less than stellar welcoming and hosting skills.
Not tea, though the Launceleyn could sure use some. He’d finally found the stores—considering that he had now gone through the Manor about five times to make sure Zariah hadn’t left any nasty surprises behind—and was swiftly working his way through them. But Renaud didn’t drink anything but blood, and that wasn’t something Loren was prepared to offer at the moment. Or maybe not ever, considering what it entailed: Renaud was attractive and nice enough, but the summoner had, well, issues with all that.
His mind was going off on tangents, a sure sign that he needed to at least rest his eyes or sit down for a bit. Sighing, he gestured that they should probably head further into the Manor. ”Alright, room first. We can get you sorted out with the rest after that.” Assuming Renaud was amenable to that suggestion, Loren would turn to go upstairs to the spare bedrooms.
A beggar's book
outworths
a noble's blood
