Life suddenly grew immeasurably better. Gone were the ‘cute’ nicknames from Worran, the flirting and the not-so-subtle innuendo. Lessa actually found him tolerable. And now that he wasn’t making eyes at her, he was actually funny. Lessa could see why Zar kept him around.

It was more than clear what their altercation was about. A warm appreciation crept into Lessa when it occurred to her that Zar stood up for her and put an end to Worran bothering her.

Lessa started splitting her time evenly between riding Leo and Storm. Until the valleys they had been through gave way to foothills.

“This is far enough today,” Zar announced after over a week’s journey.

“Why?” Lessa asked at once. The trees had thinned, and the landscape was giving way to open rolling hills, speckled here and there with thick copses of trees. But she couldn’t see anything that would impede their travel.

“Just around the bend of that hill is Bridgetown.”

Lessa looked to where he pointed. The river was lost in that direction, blocked by the hills before them.

“Why don’t we just keep going?”

Both Zar and Worran had dismounted and started unloading their packs, but they paused a moment to look at each other.

“What?” she demanded from atop Leo.

“We are going to need to resupply. It’s going to take a day just to get through. And my mother’s brother lives here. I’d like to stop in and check on his family.”

Somehow Worran was the one who seemed to have a more authentic answer. “You stand out Lessa. We need to take some time to make sure you aren’t noticed.”

“What do you mean I stand out?” She swung her leg over the back of Leo and dropped to the ground. Zar seemed to find the trees very interesting all of a sudden.

“You stalk around like a predator, and your eyes nearly glow,” again it was Worran who answered.

“I do not! And my eyes do not glow!” She resisted the urge to stomp her foot like a child.

“You do. And I didn’t say they glow. I said they nearly glow, hear the difference?”

“No, they don’t!”

Lessa. Storm interrupted her argument with a mental image of Lessa’s own face. Had she chanced upon her reflection in a mirror Lessa would not have recognized herself. Her cheeks were a little more angular than they had once been, but the difference was not so stark. What stood out were her eyes, they very nearly did glow. All flecks of hazel, or greenish gray that had once been there were replaced by the brightest of greens.

My eyes look like yours. Awe tinged Lessa’s mental tone.

The response from Storm was a smug feeling of ownership. They both knew that Lessa belonged to Storm. It had not been the other way around for a long while. But Lessa had not realized that somehow, Storm had marked her.

“You’re talking to the dragon, aren’t you?” Worran snapped Lessa’s mind back to the present. “Did she tell you I’m right?”

Anger flooded Lessa’s cheeks with heat and embarrassment.

“I do not stalk,” she tried to not sound petulant but failed.

“We will figure out a plan to make you less... Conspicuous, after we set up camp.”

More self-conscious than Lessa had ever been in her life, Lessa unsaddled her horse and started gathering wood for a fire, muttering under her breath the entire time. “‘Stalk around’... Pfff…. I do not…”

Once the wood was collected, and a tent had been erected Lessa locked eyes with Zar, demanding.

He sighed.

“When we are in the city do not make eye contact. With anyone.”

Her lips pressed together in a thin line.

“And probably don't talk. You have an accent,” Worran added.

“Your eyes are too distinct. We don’t need anyone remembering your face or eyes.”

“You should change your hair too.” Worran pointed to her braid.

“What’s wrong with my hair? I haven’t been able to brush it but I’ve been doing my best. You have no idea how hard it is to take care of this much hair without even a comb.” With nerves that were quickly fraying, Lessa brought her hair forward and started stroking the rope-like braid.

Nothing is wrong with your hair!” Earnestly Zar shook his hand in front of himself.

“If you wear it like you’re married, men won’t be as likely to look at you.” Worran shot in.

With a brow crinkled in confusion, Lessa stared at Worran. Zar looked pained and rested his hand on his forehead.

“What does that mean?”

Confusion painted across Worran’s face. “What do you mean, what does that mean?”

“Worran,” cut in Zar, his patience clearing being tried. “She isn’t from Kathardra. She has no idea what you are talking about.”

Worran’s mouth dropped open and his eyes squinted at her.

A huff jumped from Lessa’s lungs. “How about you explain?”

Zar’s hand ran through his dark locks. “In Kathardra,” he spoke slowly and deliberately, “women use their hair to communicate with men. Your hair right now would be taken to mean you are probably really mad at someone.”

She slowly blinked and tilted her head. “What?”

“How else are men supposed to get an idea of what’s on a woman’s mind?” Worran was just as incredulous with Lessa as she was with them.

“Words!” she snapped at him.

“So you’re telling me women in your world always speak their mind, tell their man exactly what they are thinking at all times.”

That shut her up.

“Ha!” He pointed at her, knowing he won this one.

“Fine. Whatever.” She turned to Zar, firmly away from Worran. “How am I supposed to wear my hair?”

“This is the strangest conversation I have ever heard.” Both Lessa and Zar glared at Worran. He threw up his hands and bowed his head.

“Married women typically wear their hair down with a single braid. And Worran is right, it would probably help avoid attention. When men see a braid like that and know a woman is spoken for, they don’t look twice.”

She shook the braid from her hair, sectioned out a small portion on top and put a quick, slim braid in it, tying it with a strip of leather she had acquired when helping Garret with the saddle.

“Like this?” She asked, gesturing.

Zar nodded.

“So your mom always had a bun in her hair…”

His eyes dropped away at once.

“Rina is a widow.” Worran’s answer hung in the air, suddenly thick with the unspoken. Zar’s dad was dead. It was clearly still painful. Wishing she hadn’t asked, Lessa tried to move on.

“Is that why Shakara’s hair is always in two braids?”

Working his jaw before he answered Zar said “When she is ready to start courting she will wear her hair loose.”

“Stars help the poor soul who shows any interest in Zar’s little sister.” Worran chuckled looking at the leaf-strewn ground.

“So loose hair means a girl is looking for a match, and a little braid means she is married. And a full braid means she’s…. Mad?”

“More or less. Yes.” Zar confirmed.

With a hand scoop under her neck, Lessa flipped her hair over her shoulder. “This is a weird system. Ok, no eye contact, ‘married’ hair. What else?”

Zar frowned at her sword. “You wear half skirts. It’ll be expected for you to have a weapon. You’ll need to keep your cloak on. Keep it over your sword. Sword-maidens aren’t so uncommon that that alone will stand out. But under no circumstances can you draw your sword.”

She nodded once. They weren’t expecting a fight. Easy enough.

“And we need to talk about how you walk. Try to relax more when you walk.”

At that moment Storm decided to land in camp. The horses had grown as used to the dragon as they could. But they still pulled at their ties until the wind from her landing passed.

“I saw the city,” she reported and sent Lessa a mental image. “Maybe it would be better if you just flew over with me.

“No. I want to see a Kathardrean city. And I can’t avoid all of them. I need to learn to blend in.” she finished with a pat on Storm’s cheek to lessen the rejection.

“Okay,” Lessa rose to her feet, “tell me how to walk more ’relaxed'.”

She strode around the camp in a big circle.

“Step harder,” Worran prodded.

Lessa stopped her feet.

“Don’t stomp. You just walk like you’re measuring each step. Stop that. Just scuff your feet a little. And stoop. You’re too tall.”

She did what she was told and held out her hands, asking without words.

“It’s better,” Zar confirmed. “The biggest thing is your eyes. Just keep them down.”

"I think I'm going to go hunting." Worran stood and fingered his bow. If we have some fur and mean to trade tomorrow it might put some coin in our purse."

"Storm can hunt."

Do not volunteer me to do such things.

"She'd love to. What would fetch the highest price?"

The boys looked at each other.

"Could she get a wolf?" Zar requested.

Lessa nodded enthusiastically. "Probably two."

"Without ruining them?" Worran asked darkly.

"Ruining them?" Storm snapped. "I could kill a wolf with just the terror of my growl!" Her thoughts were punctuated with a rumble.

"Right, right." he held his hands up in placation.

Storm jumped back into the air, buffeting them with air on purpose this time, Lessa had to hold an arm over her eyes to protect them from flying particles and debris.

Zar spoke as soon as the air had calmed, "Could you ask Storm to wait here during daylight, and fly over at night? We cannot risk her being seen at all."

"It won't be a problem," Lessa assured him.

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