I am beginning to remember, these days, why I always name my horses Luck.
I may be old before my time, grumpy and crippled and ill, but one thing has not changed: I ride chaos and chance as well as any other man alive. Insanity is erupting all around me, yet I feel more exhilarated than troubled. There is mystery afoot, and by the Lord, I am awakened at some deep level by the scent of it in the air.
All of its threads trace back to her. What does this girl have to do with so many problems? When the criminal who’s paid with his own manhood for supposedly assaulting her himself begs me not to question her if it would cause her distress…
What in her would lead men to such madness as the contradictory tales I hear imply? I have met her myself and I cannot answer. She is pretty enough, one supposes, although slender blondes are a silver a dozen in Lithmore. She has a pleasant enough mien in the way most gentlewomen just past their En Passant do: naive, biddable, shy. All in all, she seems remarkable for little beyond adhering so precisely to the stereotypical ideal of Lithmorran womanhood, as if one had assembled a paper doll from fragments of a hundred books on comportment and manners.
My, I am negative on the women of my adopted homeland. But I cannot live without being challenged, backtalked, shouted at. I do love that about Marisa. Should I speak sharply to her, she doesn’t cringe; she takes me to task in return. I would never desire an obedient flower… or, rather, though I might desire one, I could never live with one. My temper would crush the blossom, or it would lose its charm rather quickly.
She seems to be one such blossom, but perhaps it is an illusion. This matter with the Justiciar, with Breckenridge, and now the castrated man? It all stinks to the Abyss below, and she nestles at the heart of it. Perhaps she has simply been a victim of both those who would hurt her and those who would help her. Or perhaps she knows the value of a blushing cheek in convincing others to do her bidding.
Well. I know a thing or two about convincing others, myself. Let’s see where chaos and chance carry me.
