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The Count Rides With Her
“Bye Asty!”
The young girl waved her hands in response to Noelle’s goodbyes. “Bye Noelle! Bye Mrs. Pickinns!”
The elderly tailor gave her a smile and waved her hands too. “Goodbye Asthenosthene.”
The navigator of the carriage hopped aboard and prepared the horses. Asty listened carefully to the sound of the cart’s cogs as the wheel started to spun. She gazed outside and whispered to herself. “I’ll miss you guys.”
Chaol listened and observed her. Her lips were tightly pursed in a line, a sign that she was somehow uncomfortable. He noticed how she tugged her sleeves to hide her hands as if she was cold. “Asthenosthene.”
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