Mateo isn't lost, so much as he isn't looking where he's going. And he isn't not looking, so much as he can't actually see. The snow in the Silk Houses is more like grey slush, and the salt and grit and sawdust on the cobbles makes it less treacherous to walk than it otherwise might be, but all of that means nothing to a child holding an enormous, scarlet plant.
This, the florist who lives next door has told him, is a poinsettia. Blooming in Deepfrost and hardy enough to withstand the cold, it makes a perfect gift or otherwise serves to brighten a dismal space in the colder season. And Mateo hates it. He has never hated a plant before, given his obsession affinity for them. But this is stupid. What's even the point of it, other than to get in the way and look garish?
But he's promised he'll take one to the Collegium, and it's an excuse to study it before he's meant to go back to dRaGoOn tRaInInG, something which fills him with even less joy than the poinsettia. And so, bundled in a coat and scarf and with fingers going numb from grasping the flowerpot, he's none the wiser as he takes one wrong turn, and then another, and soon finds himself in the midst of the Silk Houses.
People naturally ebb and flow around him, not wanting a poinsettia thrust up at them at chin height (a natural aversion, Mateo would claim if he knew), but he's unintentionally hugging the walls and shop fronts. As he meanders past a gambling house, fate dictates a sudden meeting of boyish and mischievous minds, and he walks directly into Mordecai.
This, the florist who lives next door has told him, is a poinsettia. Blooming in Deepfrost and hardy enough to withstand the cold, it makes a perfect gift or otherwise serves to brighten a dismal space in the colder season. And Mateo hates it. He has never hated a plant before, given his obsession affinity for them. But this is stupid. What's even the point of it, other than to get in the way and look garish?
But he's promised he'll take one to the Collegium, and it's an excuse to study it before he's meant to go back to dRaGoOn tRaInInG, something which fills him with even less joy than the poinsettia. And so, bundled in a coat and scarf and with fingers going numb from grasping the flowerpot, he's none the wiser as he takes one wrong turn, and then another, and soon finds himself in the midst of the Silk Houses.
People naturally ebb and flow around him, not wanting a poinsettia thrust up at them at chin height (a natural aversion, Mateo would claim if he knew), but he's unintentionally hugging the walls and shop fronts. As he meanders past a gambling house, fate dictates a sudden meeting of boyish and mischievous minds, and he walks directly into Mordecai.
