"You aught to return home now," I chirped. His eyebrow quirked up and he leaned back against his tree, gazing at me over our small campfire. "Anyway I can't be bothered looking after you all the time," I said, grinning devilishly.
Oh, and what would you do, freed from the shackles of my company?
"Well the business of life, of course. Twade looks prosperous. Maybe I'll open a factory." My voice pitched up, mocking the bourgeois affectations I'd heard from ladies in the market that morning. "I'll require a husband, naturally. That blustery sheriff will do. He's quite successful, and well connected." My protector removed his hat, returning my smile with a hint of his own.
Or The Baron Leven himself.
"Indeed, or the Baron. Ooo, he is rich." I screwed up my eyes. He stiffled a yawn, sliding lower against the tree and replacing the hat low over his eyes.
Rest. We must get along early, distance ourselves from the city before roadblocks go up.
"No. I will petition Leven directly. You aught to return home." This time I did not smile. He would not go.
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