O time, how swift are thy turns. Was it not merely a week ago that, having at long last concluded my second commission, to the utter satisfaction of the client, and having just come into possession of a substantial treasure, my half of an inheritance I had not known existed, I felt as though the path before me was lit even as bright as mid-day when the cerulean dome arches untouched by the slightest daub of the artist's brush?
How proud I was of that commission. The artistry of the horse-head at the desk support, the cunning of the shaping of wood-grain to suit mane and coat of the crownwork, the skillful (and entirely hidden) balance of pinion and hinge that allowed the secret compartment to glide open, even when laden, as smoothly as if it were on oiled ball-bearing tracks, the crafty book-spine fascia made by the Elf of the Pony, the subtle paint-strokes above them which suggested a space empty of all but shadows, and a hundred other details besides. Surely this would be the beginning, even more than those shelves I'd made for Liffey, of the triumph of my endeavor. All the more so, now that I had coin aplenty to buy materials and tools, to build up some stock for sale and for show.
Ah, Liffey. How oft my thoughts go back to her. But so long has she kept in such a remote place, I've no doubt hers turn not back to Bree, or if they do, not to me. Perhaps the same of Arthur, of whom not the merest word has reached my ears in more than a fortnight; indeed, since the very evening of his most recent threat on my life, the one which set me to wearing this cumbersome sword. Neither have I seen Odelynne, who was to teach me its use, save but one brief time where she could not leave my company swiftly enough. And again this very evening; even as I sit here at the fountain outside the tavern and write, my thoughts as muddled and murky as a Midgewater pond due to the taking of a tumbler of brandy, even now, within ,she sits entertaining some clownish fellow. Mayhap I ought to seek some other way to learn fencing, though, can it be worth the trouble? Surely I cannot hope to match steel to anyone for many years, yet can I hope to avoid the next threat on my head a tithe as long? Like so many things, the sword now seems an ill-considered investment, a poor choice when seen over the shoulder.
Back at the Peaceful Peach, a stack of lumber sits untouched, under a canvas, at the hidden verge where the inn comes athwart the cliff-side; just enough for a modest work-shed to fit within that same niche. Upstairs in the smallest bedroom, a strongbox sits locked, filled with gold and silver and four long bolts; these are intended to affix the strongbox to the very timbers of the house, so that a thief cannot simply make off with the entire box, but yet it simply sits, ready to be purloined, at the foot of the bed, bolts unthreaded, holes undrilled. Eugenie bustles through the kitchen, making colcannon and seed-bread and fine canapés and the occasional box lunch for me, and to my knowledge, she was never angry at me for my return, though I brought her many flowers just to be sure. Margot moves lithe and graceful through the rooms, tidying, attending the many needs of the guests, and doing a thousand other things; if she bore umbrage for me, flowers helped ease it, and while she offers me none of the smiles a fellow might hope for from a lady of her character, neither does she frown at me, or make me feel unwelcome, anymore. And yet, the holes remain undrilled, the bolts linger within the strongbox, the lumber sits unmeasured and uncut.
And I, with Piper's angry words still ringing in my ears, have spent this day not designing furnishings to be my calling card, nor practicing what little of swordplay I might guess at from Odelynne's sketch-work, nor beating the bushes for commissions, nor prowling the streets of Bree in hopes of merriment and the company of mirthful people. No, I have been making inquiries concerning rooms, homes, work-sheds. Narrow garrets into which inadequate portions of sunlight come at oblique and inconvenient inclinations for an hour in the afternoon. Spacious barns which long since sent forth their kine to be replaced by a host of industrious carpenter ants. And a dozen other hovels and holes where a man might survive, but surely could not thrive.
As yet Bree has offered no prospects for a suitable place of residence nor of work for a man of my status. And as stony and piercing as Piper's unexpected hostility was -- so far in excess of what was to be expected in answer to so glib a teasing, so typical of our exchanges, so plainly a sign that in speaking of Belfry I had unknowingly struck a painful nerve perhaps beyond the bounds of forgiveness -- no, I am just as sure that, if I suggested to her I sought another place of residence out of respect for her preference to keep me at some remove, she would object strenuously, and insist that I was welcome at the Peach, had always been, that I was overreacting.
Indeed, a man who feels as welcome as she made me feel might well see fit to go to the bitter sands East of East and become a hermit to the end of the days of sky and land.
And so, here I sit, scarcely a week since the delivery, with no prospects for dwelling, nor commissions, nor companionship. Brandy smoldering like glowing coals in my stomach, its fumes suffused with questions; every miasma presenting a decision from my past, going as far back as the day I set out from my family to make some path for myself that was solely of my own crafting, and to as recently as an hour ago when I chose to buy brandy, and every choice seems badly considered, every one enshrouding a dimly glimpsed but clearly superior life beyond the possibility not pursued.
Whence to summon up a smile? As ever, none shall see these thoughts but this journal. A gentleman must be as impeccable in his grace and his comportment as in his habiliments. My usual touchstone is to remind myself that I excel at my craft; indeed, at any skill I set myself to master. But measuring the excellence of the commission that none shall see boots me nothing on this amber-hued evening. Perhaps the prospect of another brandy before retiring is the best buoyancy I can summon up, with a scant sliver of silver.
