One thing at a time. He took a deep swallow of beer and returned to his food.
Lee grinned. "It's not my prettiness the castle is talking about. Everyone has something to say about how fine a knight you look all gilded up. They're all starting to wonder who the real problem in your marriage is if that's how you look when you're not in your 'dull, stodgy, bookish robes.'"
"I see." Cimar didn't roll his eyes, but it was a near thing.
Lee, never one to miss the slightest detail, grinned slyly. "The real question is, does Lord Dweller like the way you look in your armor? How interested is he in seeing you out of it?"
"Enough. Bottle that energy you're wasting on teasing me and put it to use on getting my leathers back in shape."
"Oh, please, like they even need that much work. The only reasons you have so much sewing to do is that you wear the same two tunics all the time and those ugly robes, so the stuff that actually looks good on you has been left to languish."
"Enough," Cimar repeated. "Or I'll find plenty of work to keep you too busy to run your mouth."
Lee rolled his eyes but mercifully fell silent and focused on his meal, leaving Cimar once more to his thoughts.
Though he'd tried not to show it in front of Davrin, the quest had him concerned. He definitely thought the bandits were a likely possibility, but it seemed far more likely that was the easy quest that would go to Grayne.
"What other rumors have you heard?" he asked. "Along the lines of those bandits to the north."
Lee frowned, tapping his spoon against the rim of the large bowl they shared. "There's some trouble in town, though I don't know that's reached the castle yet. Some particularly nasty brigands have been accosting travelers and locals alike, leaving them severely injured and minus their valuables. Rumor has it a few people have been killed, but I can't find anything to confirm that. Everyone is being too cagey. Makes me think they know who's responsible, and nobody wants to be the one who gets a red necklace for opening their mouth. The usual river pirates, of course, and whispers that our latest book-fetching trip will bring more trouble than usual." He pursed his lips. "Some chatter about blackmail in the castle, did you want that?"
At that, Cimar did rolls his eyes. "If I asked you to detail to me the latest list of blackmailings about the castle, we'd be here until the next full moon. No, I think you've given me what I need." He gnawed at his bottom lip as his thoughts turned and turned.
Very nearly the only true advantage he had was that no one knew what kind of shifter he was, which meant King Rorlen and his pair of cronies could not use it against him. They couldn't factor it in at all. He'd always been deeply protective and private of his shifted form. Only Rosa, Leonine, and his mentor knew what shape he took. No one else. Cimar preferred to keep it that way, but above and beyond all else, he wanted to help Davrin and obtain justice for Ballior.
"What are you going to wear tonight?" Lee asked.
"Something…how did you say it earlier? Gilded. Grayne may not take his position, or this situation, seriously, but I do, and I want the whole court to note the difference."
Lee grinned, slow and mischievous and just one of the many reasons Cimar was proud and delighted to have him for a squire. Finishing his food, he arranged the dirty dishes neatly on the tray and rose. "I'll take all this back to the kitchen, then get your supper clothes ready before resuming work on the leathers. I won't have everything done, but I'll get enough of it, and the rest I can finish while we travel."
"Sounds a fine plan." Lee departed, and Cimar returned to his sewing, finishing up the hems easily enough and moving on to start on new embroidery. That would take him an age, even as simple as it was, but there was nothing to be done about that.
Many knights didn't even bother, considering such frivolities beneath them. The reality was that those who didn't have women they could make do the work would rather spend the money on beer and the like than on clothes they'd just ruin in a fight anyway. For most of them, clothes were something to be easily replaced. They'd never known what it was like to make clothes from whatever scraps they could find, with embroidery and other needlework the only way to make it remotely pretty.
He hummed softly as he started on the tunic he'd wear when he returned from the quest. It was a deep midnight blue, with his rowan tree crest in delicate gray. Before, he'd embroidered the hem in a simple leaves and flowers design. This time, though, he rather favored stars, with larger ones in gray thread and smaller ones in soft amber that was closer to gold. It would take longer, but be worth the effort.
After this one, he'd tackle his emerald green tunic, though what design he'd use for that, he had no idea. But it was his finest one, and he would wear it when he won the challenge. There was no other outcome he would tolerate. The only way he'd accept loss was if Grayne killed him, which Grayne would likely try to do at least once, but Cimar would be damned if he lost to that worthless excuse of a knight, especially over the matter of a fallen comrade's honor, especially when he was fighting on behalf of Davrin.
Cimar took a deep breath and paid more care to his stitches as he realized he was yanking at the thread. He focused on happier thoughts as he worked: of Davrin, of getting to travel about for a short time, even if it were to roust bandits. Spending time with Lee, his horses, getting to put the skills he'd worked so hard on to real use.
Lee returned several minutes later, looking pleased with himself, so some sort of mischief had been accomplished. Humming along with Cimar, he set immediately to work preparing his clothes for that evening, a beautiful ice blue tunic with a geometric diamond pattern that had taken Cimar months of work, his perpetual rowan meticulously stitched so the diamond pattern spread out from it, leaving the tree itself hollow, noticeable for the absence of the pattern that was everywhere else. There were matching hose and shoes to go with it, but thankfully none of the elaborate nonsense for his hair that was so popular at the moment, as he kept his short and safely away from the labors and headaches of courtly fashion.
"Do you want the white cloak or the gray with this?"
"White."
Lee nodded and went back to work, and so far as Cimar's days went, it was one of the most pleasant he'd enjoyed in a long time.
*~*~*
Some hours later, bathed and dressed and fussed over by Lee, despite the fact he was perfectly capable of dressing himself, Cimar said, "Thank you, Lee. You're welcome to join me if you like, as ever, but by all means go spend the night with your lovers. Just be back here before dawn, since the earlier we head out, the better, and I can't imagine His Majesty will give us anything that doesn't send us miles upon miles away."
"I will. Thank you, my lord. Now get."
Cimar left the peace and quiet of his room and headed off to the contained chaos of the dining hall, where no doubt it would be far more crowded than usual as everyone came to see for themselves what the quest would be, and if it really was Cimar who'd answered as champion for Lord Davrin Dweller-by-the-Sea.
He hated to be the center of attention. It was one of the reasons he'd always been perfectly content to while his days away in the archives, leaving only to make the arduous journey to see new books and other contributions arrived safely. There was no help for it, though. Davrin was a highly respected figure at court and abroad, which made him powerful—not so powerful anyone else had been willing to tangle directly with Lord Tekker, but now that the fight was on, they would likely lend whatever quiet support they could.