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Alistair wasn’t sure when he had gotten on a first-name basis with his fellow wardens. Every one of them had been standoffish in their own way, distrusting and touchy. They barely spoke to each other. He supposed they were all too busy grieving their lost lives, or keeping their secrets close to their chests.
And yet here he was, watching Kallian Tabris teach Solona Amell how to dance. Apparently the Alienage wasn’t without its small distractions. Kallian was trying very hard to show Solona how to have some semblance of rhythm. It was a valiant effort, Alistair thought as Solona tripped over her own feet and toppled into the dirt. Kallian doubled over with laughter, and off to the side Natia Brosca had to put her head between her knees to ease her cackling.
Theron Mahariel was sitting between Neria Surana’s legs, sharpening a dagger as she braided his hair. He took a moment to point and laugh at Solona, but Neria put a quick stop to that by flicking the tip of his ear. Sereda Aeducan was beside them, handing Theron a new dagger every time the last one was sharpened. She had a patient smile on her face as she watched Solona and Kallian practice.
An actual noblewoman sat beside Alistair, her boots just as muddy as his. Elissa Cousland was drinking wine straight from the bottle and watching Solona try to dance. Stories about nobles falling in love always made them seem uncomfortable and predatory. (Of course, perhaps his own conception made him biased against noble trysts.) Elissa just seemed… sad. Longing. Earnest, even.
He watched Elissa watch Solona. After a moment she looked at him.
“Girls,” she said with a weak smile.
Alistair glanced over at Kallian, watched her laugh as she danced, hands clapping and hips swinging.
“Girls,” he agreed, and Elissa handed him her bottle of wine.