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Anairë | The Silmarillion (anaire) wrote in thefeanorians,

"Well met, my lord, indeed. And when the stars are shining, then surely they shall shine on our meeting," she grinned.

Anairë's cheeks flamed at the implication of his words, and she looked down and away. "I should like to get a shop, sir, perhaps with your sister's wedding, I'll find myself able to. But at the moment, I do work out of my home. We use the parlor for fittings, or I would be glad to come here to do so. You need not come to me at all."

It was true, Anairë was not poor. She had always had enough to eat, and her home was small, yes, but comfortable. They had simply never been able to have any of the extras, or the thousand little luxuries that she saw around her here. She put the last pin in the hem, and instead of looking at Findis, turned to look once more at her brother, her cheeks still a bit red.

"How does a proper prince like you end up with a mysterious hole in his cape, anyway, my lord?"