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Summary
“This morning last, you were praying to him, yes? I saw you in the small chapel but did not wish to disturb.”
So he had seen her. The image of the morning daybreak painting a bright, luminous stripe over the width of Minsc’s shoulders, earrings glittering like crystalised pockets of light – Caitria feels the warmth of the sun rush suddenly to her cheeks.
“Yes, I was praying.” she says quickly and clears her throat.
Minsc lifts the goblet of wine. “Then a fine God you must have, to find such small moments to devote to him. And he has rewarded you handsomely in turn.”