Joras was actually appalled when, a time or two, I sat right down, heedless of my dignity, cross-legged in the grass, to talk to a circle of children who wanted to hear about my little brother and how he got lost in the sewer pipes. Or how his pet domoctopus saved him from a big spider there.
Aside from the occasional smelly one, it wasn’t a problem really and I began carrying a largish round harness bell that I could pull out to distract possible screamers. It was as if I could hear Binshala at my elbow. It is only baby pee, Spark. It washes off.
Arko had elected a lot more solas and fessas to Assembly than okas. And, surprisingly few Aitzas, until I thought about it and realized that most Aitzas held it beneath them. I could talk to the solas about training and the fessas about how I had lived as a fessas while in hiding.
He looked impeccable in his dark red satins, with cutwork hems and cuffs dotted here and there with tiny gold sequins. I was still in my flying leathers and considerably more aromatic from flying all day.
He was taller than I. Obviously broader across the shoulders with a small paunch of presence. A man's fleshier build, to my gracile one. He was fashionably smooth faced and had hair all the way down to his mid-thigh, also perfectly combed. I felt very scruffy and wind-blown.