“Well that’s what they say,” Rhedara admitted. She was a believer in the goddess, but she wasn’t sure about how foretelling the wreathes were. She’d participated in the past more because the flowers were pretty than anything else. Dreams of finding love were there for sure, but Rhedara had been far more focused on her potions and her military training to even consider the possibility of love before she’d met Raff, “I’m not making a wreath for myself this year because, well,” she smiled at the thought of her lover, not yet receiving the letter that would ultimately mark the end of their relationship, “someone is courting me already, and it seems unnecessary, don’t you think?” She shrugged, “And he’s away in Cambria, and putting a wreath out in the water almost seems like it would be asking for bad luck somehow.”

The answer to the question regarding the character of her employer was…complicated. Would a man that framed business partners be considered a good man? A man who likely got rid of people who crossed him? Probably not, but she wasn’t about to disparage her employer to this Lord Thornhill.

“He is a fair man,” she started. It was the truth, “and he sees to it that those that he sees as his own, whether they are family or peop.e in his employ, are well taken care of.”