She looks up when the stranger helps herself to a chair and, although she doesn't show it, she's surprised. She's seen this woman before, many times, though she never knew - and still doesn't know - her name. But she just nods and offers a polite smile (not one of Quanil's constantly effervescent ones). "I am, yes. Are you here from Mr. Wordsworth?"
She's careful because if this woman has managed to keep her status hidden all this time, Freina doesn't want to be the one to muck it up. As much as she wants to ask her name, she doesn't. Ultimately, it's irrelevant to the matter at hand, and she's too grateful for this chance to do anything to ruin it.
She's careful because if this woman has managed to keep her status hidden all this time, Freina doesn't want to be the one to muck it up. As much as she wants to ask her name, she doesn't. Ultimately, it's irrelevant to the matter at hand, and she's too grateful for this chance to do anything to ruin it.
