Re: Break 3:: Denerim Market
The teasing smile slipped from her face when he did not respond to the jest, and Ordhan may have felt sorry for it if he allowed himself. But no. It was best if they treated each other as strangers. And it was true, he told himself. Everything they knew about each other was learned on false pretense; he paid her to care, and the reckless guard spoke as if to ears that wouldn't listen (perhaps they didn't; given what he had said, he hoped it was the case). It was a bitter thought, but true, and had he not led such a useless life there would be nothing to be awkward about.
He was not her client anymore, but a knight, one who had hoped that all memory of those days had died with the rest.
After Lillian took his hand, she began to draw herself onto the crate he stood upon. Ordhan's free hand hovered near her shoulder in case she needed help, but she reached the top without much difficulty. Her request was much what Ordhan had in mind; a leg-up would have been as difficult as it would be inappropriate. He nodded as reply and, setting his hands at her waist, raised her up. She was a small-framed woman, light and slim, and when Ordhan easily lifted her the roof's edge was as low as her elbows. "Let me know when you have it," he called softly, not wanting to draw even more attention into the alley.