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“Your name.” The woman spoke as quickly as the Peasant rose. That was reasonable, for a Damsel surely could remember the face of a person with something as simple as a glance. She only needed a name to go with it.
“Lucian of Verac.” He did not make his words flowery or convoluted. He simply answered her question to the best of his ability.
Lucian felt his eyes were getting a true look upon her. Slowly fading was the fae-presence that was there but instead that of a powerful noblewoman. That power he realized was not political. She was divinely empowered as were all Damsels. He did not know why or how he understood it but likely what he felt earlier was just a glimpse into her mystical arts.
It was then that a soft smile graced her face, “You were the seller of those blue berries I had some days ago.”
“Y-yes I am Madam.” He held back whatever cheers he felt from being instantly recognized and spoke clearly, “If you so wish I have a bushel still within the cart. It might pay assistance to one such as you who came to the Garden of Morr.”
That soft smile of hers changed somehow. Lucian had of course talked to lots of people within Aquitaine but never had he talked to a Noblewoman such as she. For this fact he was only aware that something within her demeanor changed but whatever secrets were hidden behind it he could not divine.
“I accept this gift. Will you guide me to your cart so that we can pick up your gift to me?” She said simply.
“Of course!” He cheered before quickly cleaning his scythe so that he would not bring the gravedirt into the Temple.
At a walking pace the two of them exited the temple with some of the Priests within the place looking curiously upon them. Upon their arrival at the donkey drawn cart Lucian traded out the scythe for the bushel. He felt a little regret leaving his scythe alone but he must. He was to pay this tithe of penance to her.
