last night. Apparently it’s good for hangovers.”
Evidently some of the fruit lingered in her mouth. Holo squeezed her eyes shut and forced herself to swallow, then sniffed and wiped the corners of her eyes. “Eating this would drag me back to sobriety after a hundred years’ drinking!”
"It certainly looks like you could use its help.”
Holo frowned and threw what was left of the fruit at Lawrence, then tended to her still-fluffed tail. “ ’Tis not as though I am hungover every morning.”
And thank goodness for that. It’s cold again today, I should say.”
Lawrence looked at the fruit Holo had thrown at him. It was half gone. To have eaten half of the sour fruit’s flesh in a single bite without knowing what to expect—there was no wonder she’d found the taste a shock. While it was impressive she hadn’t cried out, that might have been because she was simply unable to.
"I don’t mind a bit of cold, but no one in the village is yet awake.”
"Surely someone is up...but I daresay shops will not be open until late.”
Lawrence stood up from the bed and opened the rickety window, which seemed like it would be little use against even a weak breeze. He looked out; there was nothing but wisps of morning mist in the village square.
Lawrence was used to seeing merchants jostle for space in town square markets. The contrast made this one seem quite lonely.
“I surely prefer a livelier place,” said Holo.
“You’ll find no argument from me there.” Lawrence closed the window and looked over his shoulder to see Holo burrowing underneath the blankets to go back to sleep.
“You know, they say the gods made us to sleep just once a day.”
“Oh? Well, I’m a wolf,” Holo said with a yawn. “There’s nothing for it if no one has yet risen. If I must be cold and hungry, I’d rather be asleep.”
“Well, we are here in the wrong season. Still, it’s odd.”
“Oh?”
“Ah, it’s nothing you’d care about. I just can’t quite figure the sources of income for the people here.”
Holo had initially popped her head out of the covers with interest, but at these words, she immediately retreated back within them.
Lawrence chuckled slightly at her actions, and having nothing better to do, he thought the problem over.
Though it was true that this was a slow season for farmers, villages prosperous enough to cease work entirely during the winter were few and far between.
And based on what Lawrence heard in the tavern, they had to pay taxes to the town of Enberch.
Yet the villagers did not seem to be engaging in any jobs on the side.
The village was still very quiet just as Holo had said.
Side jobs for farming villages like this were things like spinning and weaving wool or making baskets and bags out of straw. Such work wasn’t profitable unless the volume was high, so people were generally busy at work as soon as the sun was up. If taxes had to be paid, they would have to work that much harder.
What was even stranger was the excellent ale and food at the tavern the night before.
In truth, the village of Tereo seemed, somehow, to have money. While Holo’s nose for the quality of food was unmatched, Lawrence’s sense of smell was attuned to money.
If he could learn something about the flow of coin in this village, he might be able to do some business here, he thought to himself.
In any case, there weren’t any other merchants here, which by itself was a state Lawrence liked.
He couldn’t help but grin at himself. Here he was on a journey that had nothing to do with business, yet his mind drifted there all the same.
Just then, from outside the window, came the sound of a door creaking open.
The sound stood out clearly in the quiet morning. Lawrence looked through a crack in the window. It was none other than Evan.
But he was not entering the church as before—he was leaving it.
From his hand dangled a bundle of some kind, perhaps a meal. As before, Evan looked around carefully, then
Evidently some of the fruit lingered in her mouth. Holo squeezed her eyes shut and forced herself to swallow, then sniffed and wiped the corners of her eyes. “Eating this would drag me back to sobriety after a hundred years’ drinking!”
"It certainly looks like you could use its help.”
Holo frowned and threw what was left of the fruit at Lawrence, then tended to her still-fluffed tail. “ ’Tis not as though I am hungover every morning.”
And thank goodness for that. It’s cold again today, I should say.”
Lawrence looked at the fruit Holo had thrown at him. It was half gone. To have eaten half of the sour fruit’s flesh in a single bite without knowing what to expect—there was no wonder she’d found the taste a shock. While it was impressive she hadn’t cried out, that might have been because she was simply unable to.
"I don’t mind a bit of cold, but no one in the village is yet awake.”
"Surely someone is up...but I daresay shops will not be open until late.”
Lawrence stood up from the bed and opened the rickety window, which seemed like it would be little use against even a weak breeze. He looked out; there was nothing but wisps of morning mist in the village square.
Lawrence was used to seeing merchants jostle for space in town square markets. The contrast made this one seem quite lonely.
“I surely prefer a livelier place,” said Holo.
“You’ll find no argument from me there.” Lawrence closed the window and looked over his shoulder to see Holo burrowing underneath the blankets to go back to sleep.
“You know, they say the gods made us to sleep just once a day.”
“Oh? Well, I’m a wolf,” Holo said with a yawn. “There’s nothing for it if no one has yet risen. If I must be cold and hungry, I’d rather be asleep.”
“Well, we are here in the wrong season. Still, it’s odd.”
“Oh?”
“Ah, it’s nothing you’d care about. I just can’t quite figure the sources of income for the people here.”
Holo had initially popped her head out of the covers with interest, but at these words, she immediately retreated back within them.
Lawrence chuckled slightly at her actions, and having nothing better to do, he thought the problem over.
Though it was true that this was a slow season for farmers, villages prosperous enough to cease work entirely during the winter were few and far between.
And based on what Lawrence heard in the tavern, they had to pay taxes to the town of Enberch.
Yet the villagers did not seem to be engaging in any jobs on the side.
The village was still very quiet just as Holo had said.
Side jobs for farming villages like this were things like spinning and weaving wool or making baskets and bags out of straw. Such work wasn’t profitable unless the volume was high, so people were generally busy at work as soon as the sun was up. If taxes had to be paid, they would have to work that much harder.
What was even stranger was the excellent ale and food at the tavern the night before.
In truth, the village of Tereo seemed, somehow, to have money. While Holo’s nose for the quality of food was unmatched, Lawrence’s sense of smell was attuned to money.
If he could learn something about the flow of coin in this village, he might be able to do some business here, he thought to himself.
In any case, there weren’t any other merchants here, which by itself was a state Lawrence liked.
He couldn’t help but grin at himself. Here he was on a journey that had nothing to do with business, yet his mind drifted there all the same.
Just then, from outside the window, came the sound of a door creaking open.
The sound stood out clearly in the quiet morning. Lawrence looked through a crack in the window. It was none other than Evan.
But he was not entering the church as before—he was leaving it.
From his hand dangled a bundle of some kind, perhaps a meal. As before, Evan looked around carefully, then
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