Standing at the window, staring out into the huge yard, Jenn could almost lose herself in the illusion of this being just another normal, boring day. The sunlight streaming in through the thick panes of glass defined her fine high cheekbones, warming her alabaster skin. It warmed the world outside equally as well, bathing the little peaceful village in a soft glow which caused the silent scene to sparkle after the mornings rain. It all looked so magical, so dream-like. She could just imagine seeing Siward stride up the pathway now, tall, proud and handsome but, more importantly, alive.
It was not to be, though. She knew that. Already her son had taken to asking, after his own fashion, when his daddy would come home. He was too young to understand that daddy was dead and would not be returning. It shattered her heart that little bit more each time she had to tell him that Siward was not coming home, not only because of the way his tiny face would crease up in tears but also at having to face that truth herself.
Dwelling on that subject would do no good. No, there were other things to think about now. Ystcild had returned some hours earlier with news of a lead. She had, it seemed, dilligently checked each house as best she could and had come up with only one possible lead. The pieces fit; a small, slender woman who was rather badly injured. Going the extra mile, as Jenn had known she would, the bounty hunter had done some minor investigations, uncovering the womans name and a few possible friends.
One name in particular had captured her attention. A man whom Siward had been hired to kill only weeks before was well-connected to the woman in question. That was interesting, very interesting. He could prove useful. First, though, she would have to find out a little more about him.
