In truth, this was the first year Beam was standing so close to the fire. He'd watched from a distance once before, out of curiosity, but never had he had reason to be involved in the festival itself.
"Ah, you finally came," an arm threaded round his shoulders, and a sweet scent filled his nostril. It was a familiar sensation – or it had been in the past – of a woman sneaking up behind him.
"Loriel," he said, tilting his head back to look up at her.
"The very same," she said, with a sweet smile, as she normally might. But Beam could not deny that her face looked haggard. He could only imagine how bad things had been, with the prostitutes being accused of murder.
She was dressed for the occasion, better than anyone else, with dark purple robes drooping over his shoulders, and a fur hat sitting on her head. Somehow, despite not showing any skin, she still managed to appear nearly overwhelmingly feminine.
