Sevryn was at her worktable when Ashara walked in, hunched over a leather bracer with a thin engraving tool in her hand. She didn't look up.
"Ah, back already, lisei?"
"You keep calling me that." Ashara dropped onto the stool by the table. "What does it mean?"
"Little sister." Sevryn set the tool down and leaned back, stretching her arms over her head. "Old dramari tongue. Tea?"
"Sure."
The kettle went on. Ashara sat with her elbows on the table, watching Sevryn's fingers work the runic heating plate, and tried to figure out how to say what she'd come here to say.
"Something's bugging you," Sevryn said, without turning around.
"How'd you know?"
"Because you walked in here with your shoulders up around your ears and you haven't flirted with me once, so I assume this isn't a fun visit." Sevryn poured two cups and sat down across from her. "Talk."
Ashara flexed her wrapped fists on the table.
