A fateful letter

Trace's blood was about to boil as he watched Conlan leave. He had no doubt as to the author of the letter, or its contents.

It obviously contained the new source of blackmail, along with instructions of some kind for Trace to follow. Conlan's role as the messenger only reinforced the fulfillment of the promise to contact Trace again only when more leverage was found.

At least the devious man didn't seem to have any personal knowledge of Trace's magic; he appeared to only know Trace was being blackmailed in some way. That was some small mercy.

Trace didn't even know how his secret had gotten to unfriendly ears; only his family knew it, and they all valued him too much to let such information out.

Whispers around Trace reminded him that he was in a public place. He grimaced and turned towards his wife. She'd already been in an argument with Conlan when he arrived.

"Are you all right?" He forced himself to try to calm down.

"Yes, I'm all right," She confirmed, glancing towards the door as if to make sure Conlan wasn't going to return.

"What did he say to you?" Trace didn't want his wife to know he was being held hostage by a secret. Why had Conlan approached her? To make his life worse?

"He was making advances," Anaisa's face screwed up with revulsion, "but I can defend myself from men like him."

Anger seared through Trace's middle before the second part of his wife's statement sunk in.

"Have you needed to defend yourself from men like that before?" Trace asked softly, ice in his tone. What had she been through in her earlier life? She looked at him with a frank expression before she replied.

"I have needed to, on occasion, but I have yet to fail." Anaisa's words were candid, and Trace shook his head.

"You won't ever need to again. So long as I'm around, you have a defender." He took a deep breath and resisted the urge to run out into the street and find Conlan to pummel him.

Anaisa stared at Trace for several quiet seconds, but he couldn't read her expression. The whispers from the other side of the shop intensified and Trace cleared his throat to change the subject.

"What fabric is your favorite?" He asked in a normal, conversational tone. At least, that's what he aimed for. Trace still keenly felt the strain of dealing with Conlan.

Anaisa turned to some practical grey wool. "Your coat seemed sturdy and well made. If I may, I would like one like it for the winter."

Trace tried to show no surprise at her practicality. He had hoped she would pick something pretty, but of course if she was unused to having her needs met growing up poor, that would be her first concern.

"That is an excellent idea," He smiled, "but with my coat being grey, perhaps yours could be a different color? We don't want to get them mixed up in the dim light of early morning."

The excuse was a flimsy one to push her towards something prettier, but she seemed to accept it.

"What do you recommend?" Anaisa looked at him.

He glanced around the area at the other warm fabrics until he came across a pretty blue that would complement her eyes, but was dark enough to not show the stains of farm work easily.

"Do you like this one?" He asked carefully. She seemed open to suggestions, but ultimately he did want her to like whatever they picked.

"I do like it, but it is more expensive with the dye," She lowered her voice and pointed to the price on the shelf.

"How much fabric will you need for the project?" He asked. The material was well within his budget, but he appreciated her frugality.

She thought before naming the amount, and he nodded, waving over the shopkeeper and completing the purchase. Anaisa stood to the side, looking humbled. It was a strange transformation after seeing her yelling at Conlan.

"By the way," He asked the shopkeeper as they wrapped up the transaction, "Can you tell me which house is Jin's? I need to pay him a visit today, but I can't recall where exactly he lives."

"South side of town, third house from the main road, but this time of day he'll probably be in his shop."

"His shop?" Anaisa leaned forward, listening intently.

"Yes, ma'am, he's the cobbler, you know. He's too finicky to live behind his shop like most of the rest of us, so he went and built a separate house and locks up every night. I always say, if robbers come through the town, they'll ransack his shop first because he's not in it to stop them." The proprietor shook his head. "Poor judgment on his part, I believe."

Anaisa looked thoughtful, and Trace thanked the helpful shopkeeper before taking the bundle of fabric back to the wagon. Anaisa was quiet and apprehensive. She must be anxious about seeing her sister, though Trace thought she would be relieved that it was time to go see her.

"Can we go to the house first?" Anaisa blurted suddenly. "If Katia's there, alone…" Her voice trailed off, and Trace nodded.

"Sure, we'll head there now," He snapped the reins and guided the horses in the correct direction. The implication behind her words was perhaps clearer than Anaisa wanted it to be.

If Katia wasn't doing well, Anaisa probably intended to help her run away. At least, that was his guess from the fact that his wife so quickly suggested he send her away.

In Trace's estimation, that was a bit premature absent extreme circumstances. Jin seemed a decent man, and probably wouldn't intentionally mistreat any woman, let alone his wife.

"I'm sorry Conlan bothered you," Trace said after a few moments, "I didn't think about that being a possibility when I sent you off alone."

Anaisa shrugged as if it were not a big deal, but it was to him.

"How do you know that man?" She asked after a moment. "He said you had a mutual friend."

Trace hesitated. "Not a friend. It was army business."

Not a lie, he reminded himself. He hoped that was enough answer to satisfy her curiosity, but the way she looked at him dispelled that desire.

"The war is over. Who from the army still needs you for business?" Out of the corner of his eye, Trace noticed her gaze flicker down toward his jacket, where he had put the letter without opening it.

"I'm sure it's nothing serious." He shrugged to try to get out of the conversation. "This should be it," He pulled the horses to a stop and jumped down from the wagon, tying it off.

Anaisa scrambled down and nearly sprinted for the door, raising her fist and taking a deep breath before knocking firmly on it.

"Katia!!" She called, but there was no answer. Her mouth pinched with anxiety.

"She may have gone with him to his shop," He suggested calmly. "After all, they just met yesterday. It would be natural to get to know one another by spending time together."

Anaisa's shoulders drooped as she turned away from the door of the home and walked back to the wagon.

"Yes, that has to be it," She determined. "Do you know where the shop is?"

"Yes, I know the place," He assured her. "It's not far."

Anaisa tried to smile, but there was a tightness to it that belied her attempt at a brave face. Trace wanted to comfort her, to tell her to relax, but he feared that any attempt to calm his wife would rile her up instead.

He climbed back onto the wagon, and she quickly followed, her eyes roaming the streets now, probably searching for any sign of Katia. Trace suppressed a sigh. Hopefully finally seeing her would put this anxiety to rest.

"This was the first night we've spent apart that I can remember," Anaisa mumbled. "I hope she was able to sleep well."

"You did," He said without thinking, and mentally kicked himself for the comment, "I mean, you'll be able to ask her in a few minutes, but I'm sure she did well."

Anaisa was apparently too distracted to read anything into his slip of the tongue, and he was grateful. It was barely two minutes before they pulled up to the shoemaker's shop. Anaisa jumped down and was inside like a flash.

By the time he caught up, she was yelling at a young man.

"What do you mean, you don't know??" Anaisa's face turned red as she shouted.

Trace's eyebrows rose as he interrupted. "Good afternoon, young man. I'm guessing you must be an apprentice here?"

"Yes, Sir." The lanky teen nodded, backing away from the clearly distraught woman.

"And Jin, your master, where is he today?" Trace asked calmly.

"That's what I was just telling her," The apprentice replied, "I'm not sure."