Marian was unbelievably pleased when the gloves fit. And she didn't even bother to hide it. Why should she? "Agreed then. They are quality craftsmanship, completely hand stitched. I had the tanner follow his own hand as a guide."
She stepped closer, boldly taking one of his hands. She removed the tip from his index finger, sliding it off with ease. She noted that they fit him as if they were made for his hands. The tip dangled from a reinforced bit of leather. "I... Gale, you are going to keep these. I'll get more at our next stop. They are archers gloves. And they fit you as if he had traced your hand instead of his, and they have never fit me." Marian's tone would book no argument. She would feel guilty if she took them back. "I will hardly need them when I return home. As my cover was blown. It's better they go to good use, rather than dangle with me from a hangman's noose."
Marian had plenty of time to come to terms with her fate, should she ever return home. And if this was the last bit of good she could do, then... She would. She would do as much as she could with the time she had on the train.