Brenna had seemed shy but hopeful about the dinner with Cora and a potential match. Though her guard was more than capable of escorting her there, Mayra insisted on going along herself, in part from curiosity over who Cora would supply, and in part ongoing, perhaps unfair, suspicion over Brenna's motives.
Peter tagged along, as always, walking behind and chatting with Brenna's guard.
The woman in question had her face covered and head lowered, speaking only in a whisper in answer to a direct question.
It wasn't a particularly effective way to attract a suitor, in Mayra's humble opinion, but perhaps she was just nervous about who it might be. Surely she would warm up to the man once she met him.
"Would you like me to stay with you?" Mayra asked curiously.
"No! Thank you," Brenna whispered, looking at the ground.
"If you're sure. Here we are." Mayra gestured to the hut, "I wish you the best of luck!"
"With what?" A voice said from behind.
Everyone turned as Edmar strode up behind them.
"Hello, Edmar," Mayra greeted the Commodore's elder son. "Brenna was just about to join Cora for dinner…" She paused.
Surely Edmar wasn't the bachelor the woman had in mind? It didn't make a lot of sense to match the most hated woman among the brides with the next leader of the people. Mayra had been certain that Cora had alluded to finding him a Cetoan wife.
"That's why I'm here, too," Edmar replied. "I often drop by for dinner with Mother and Father."
"Then I suppose we should go in and eat," Brenna spoke up, stepping closer to him with a confidence that startled Mayra.
"Yes," His demeanor changed very suddenly, his brow furrowing in deep confusion.
He knocked at the door of the hut, and after a moment Cora answered. "Brenna, come in, let me introduce you to… Oh! Edmar, you're here too?"
Mayra sighed in some relief as Cora confirmed that Edmar was not an expected guest at dinner.
"You said I was always welcome at your table, Mother." He blinked at her in mild offense.
"I did, yes, I just did not expect you tonight. It may not be the best time. Perhaps I could give you some food to take home, and you could join us tomorrow?" Cora's eyes shifted meaningfully towards Brenna and then back to her son.
Brenna dropped her gaze back into the shy, submissive posture that she'd arrived with, apparently realizing her mistake. Edmar was looking at her strangely.
"I suppose that's fine," He said absently to his mother, "though I am sorely offended at my rejection here. Perhaps another night I might be allowed inside the home where I grew up."
Cora flashed him a thankful smile and dashed inside to prepare him a dish. She returned barely a moment later, and handing to him, ushered him away.
"Brenna, please come inside." She pulled the young woman in, away from her son.
He stood there staring for a moment or two as the door closed.
"Hm." He finally said, giving a cursory nod to the others before walking away with his food.
Brenna's guard stationed himself by the door, and Mayra heaved a sigh.
"Hungry?" She asked Peter.
"I could go get some shrimp if you'd like." A mischievous grin belied any seriousness behind the statement.
"You know what? They've been growing on me, actually." Mayra chuckled as they began walking back towards the Bridal Hut.
"Funny how something that used to horrify and disgust you can slowly become appealing over time," Peter observed.
"'Horrify' and 'disgust' are strong words," She glanced at him, as if trying to judge if there was a double meaning behind his words, or if she was imagining it.
"Maybe 'irritate' and 'repulse'?" He tried.
"Maybe," She laughed. "Definitely irritate."
They walked together towards the hut, and she became contemplative.
"Things change a lot, don't they?" The brown-eyed girl asked after several moments.
"What do you mean?" Peter couldn't quite tell where her mind was going.
"Everything. I used to live in a farming village, hunting game and gathering herbs with Mother. Then I went on this grand adventure with Finn, then stayed in the city for two years, and now suddenly I'm a matchmaker by the sea."
"That's all true, but I bet you wouldn't trade any of your adventures away." He smiled.
"No, I wouldn't," Mayra agreed. "But it's still surreal sometimes. Like I'm living in someone else's dream."
Peter refrained from commenting on how often she appeared in his dreams.
"Is it a good dream, at least?" He asked instead.
"Most of the time, I suppose." The battle two years ago had been a nightmare.
"Is there anything I can do to make it better?" He wondered aloud, and then flushed slightly at how the question might come across.
"You can't change dreams, Peter, don't you know that?"
"What do you mean? I change mine all the time," He quirked one eyebrow at her.
"No you don't," Mayra gave him a dismissive glance.
"Sure I do. Once you know you're dreaming, you can take control of it, make it into what you want it to be." Peter insisted. "Haven't you ever done that?"
"No, not really. I mean, occasionally I've realized I was dreaming, but there was nothing to be done to change it."
"Try next time. Believe that you're stronger than a bear, or can fly like a bird or something. It's great fun." He grinned.
"It sounds as if your adventures have far surpassed my own. I've never been able to fly like a bird or be stronger than a bear." The girl eyed Peter up and down as if these were real-life powers he possessed.
"I've never spoken to a Fae or climbed an icy mountain… or been in jail," He bit back an amused grin as Mayra rose to his taunt.
"That was ENTIRELY outside of my control, Peter! I did nothing wrong except try to expose a traitor! And it was miserable! Trapped for days in that tiny little cell, and then Roland showed up to moon over Finn and profess his love while I was trapped not five feet away!" Her hands gesticulated wildly as she raved about the experience, and Peter snorted.
"But you already knew all that," She continued.
"It's fun to watch you get a little riled up sometimes," He confessed. "And it's educational, as well. Innocent people like myself have never been imprisoned, and I could stand to learn more about the process of justice."
"You can be really irritating, you know that?" She began to settle down.
"Maybe I'll grow on you," He teased back at her.
"Hey, if your sea bugs can, anything is possible," She shrugged, "however unlikely."
"Shellfish," He corrected automatically, causing her to smile.
"Shellfish," She amended.
There was plenty of food around the Bridal Hut; the Rhone women had all been testing out their cooking skills on some of the Cetoan ingredients at a collection of cookfires. Peter and Mayra tasted many of the dishes and gave helpful feedback on how to improve or make it taste more like how the Cetoans cooked.
Mayra spent some time ushering the girls towards bed as the sun went down; it was harder to keep track of everyone at night and it was just easier to have them settling down before dusk.
"I feel like a mother hen with a hundred chicks," She confided to Peter as she sent another group inside. Together, they checked each of the cookfires to make sure they were properly banked and posed no danger of flaring up in the night.
"There's no good comment for me to make in response to that, so I'll refrain." He replied as he helped her pick up some stray dishes that had been left out. "Do you need help cleaning these?"
"I should really make the girls clean up after themselves, but who knows which ones did it, and I don't really want them out and about after dark anyway." She glared back at the hut where the last few had gone in. The two guards on duty stood on the side of each doorway, looking a bit bored of the task.
It really was an impressive structure for being so hastily constructed. The fact that it could hold so many people was a bit baffling to Mayra, as her village only had small houses, and the large venues in Klain were stone and had been constructed long ago.
Peter retrieved a bucket of fresh water and the two spent some time cleaning the dishes side by side. Finished at last, Mayra dried and stored them for the morning.
"Thanks for your help… with everything… on an ongoing basis," She turned to thank Peter, who was standing closer than she expected.
"You're welcome," He smiled warmly. "You should go get some sleep now."
"You too," She said. "Let me know how your dreams go."
"Depends on what they're about," His eyes became fractionally more serious as they looked into hers. "You might not want to hear."
With that enigmatic response, he winked and strode away to prepare for bed, leaving a slightly stunned Mayra in his wake.