(Features characters from my newest book, The Brothers Moonborn)

5th of Rain's Hand, 4E 196

"'Stay out of trouble, Roserana,'" I muttered, balling my hands into my skirts. "'Be a good girl, Roserana. Do as you're told, Roserana, or you'll never find a husband."

I hated being treated like a child. As a seventeen-year-old woman, I felt that I deserved to have a little more freedom.

Well, at least my parents had allowed me to wander freely around Solitude while they talked business. They could've forced me to stay with them while they balanced their ledgers. Honestly, I'd rather shove thorns into my feet than listen to stuffy businessmen talk about their finances. It would inevitably turn into a bragging contest for who was the most successful merchant with the EETC.

It was a beautiful day in Solitude. Not as temperate as Cyrodiil at this time of year, but pleasant enough for Skyrim. With clear skies overhead, the salty breeze swept through the streets of the city, causing the shop signs and flags to sway. People walked about the streets without much care in the world, pausing to speak to one another before going on with their business.

As I meandered through the city, I came to the small market square. Some of the merchants called for passersby to give them attention, holding up their fresh fish or wafting the smell of baked goods toward people. Some sold flatware, while others offered small trinkets.

But only one shop owner was busy. She was a wine seller, and she was not happy with the customer in front of her, if her puckered lips and squinted eyes were any indication.

Curious, I wandered closer.

"My price is firm, girl," said the merchant as she crossed her arms under her ample bust. A Nord by the looks—and sound—of her. The woman's face was wrinkled, but her pale eyes were sharp. Her accent coated her words like a layer of snow over a path. People from this province just seemed to rough around the edges.

Or so I thought.

The person in front of the wine seller, a woman about my age, shifted her balance from one foot to the other. Her thin left hand came up to play with her wavy auburn hair, and when she tilted her head to one side, I caught a glimpse of the freckles sprinkled across her nose, cheeks, and forehead. The sunlight danced in her intelligent brown eyes, lighting them up like a glass of mead.

Surely this girl wasn't from this province. She didn't bear the weathered look of a farmer who worked too hard, didn't stand awkwardly like a bear drunk off fermented fruit. Of course, I knew that there were civilized people in Skyrim, but that civility was usually reserved for the courts. The common people of this land seemed to care very little for the finer things in life.

Except this girl, who seemed dead set on tasting something rich while she was here. She still said nothing to the merchant in front of her, but instead pressed her slender index finger to the label of a bottle in front of her.

My jaw dropped. This girl was trying to haggle over Firebrand wine? Just who did she think she was?

"This may be my only chance to try it," she said, and when she spoke, it was like a melody catching on the breeze. She didn't have a rough accent or a fumbling cadence. She had to be nobility in disguise, right? Her black linen dress and tan leather jerkin were plain, but they fitted her well. As she swayed on her feet, the toes of her leather boots became visible. These were not the clothes of someone who struggled in life. And yet her knuckles were scraped and reddened, her palms slightly calloused. Underneath her freckles was the evidence of old sunburn.

She was a puzzle.

Why do I feel like I have to solve her?

The merchant was not impressed. "Then you should've brought enough septims to pay for it. I already sell it for next to no profit. I can't go any lower."

Despite the clever grin on her face, the younger woman seemed to realize that she had met her match. The gleam in her honeyed eyes seemed to die.

I didn't want her to make a fool of herself. She had already dug herself into a hole, but maybe I could help her get out.

"You interested in buying anything?" the merchant asked me as I approached. How she managed to get any business with that attitude was beyond me.

"How much for a bottle?" I asked. I had a feeling that it would be too steep for my tastes, but I wanted to know just how desperate this girl had been for a bottle.

"Hundred and thirty."

So the merchant had been telling the truth. She wasn't selling it for much of a profit. Firebrand wine was notoriously expensive, though merchants made their money back by selling cases to the rich and powerful for their parties. The woman in front of us could afford to turn less of a profit on these bottles since she probably sold plenty to the Blue Palace.

I turned to the other woman. "And you were trying to haggle it down to how much?"

A blush crept underneath her freckles, and a sheepish grin crossed her face. "About half of that price. But I've never had a chance to taste real wine before. All we have back home is the cheap stuff that the barkeep makes in his basement. Every now and then, he gets a shipment of alto wine, but I've only ever sipped that."

"You think you can handle Firebrand wine, girl?" cackled the merchant. "If you've only ever had weak wines, then this will knock you on your ass."

The younger woman cocked a single fiery eyebrow, and she tilted her head down until her thick lashes were grazing her browbone. "Try me."

Before I knew what I was doing, I reached into the pouch around my waist and produced the appropriate number of coins for a bottle of Firebrand. I snatched up the closest bottle by its neck, motioned for the other woman to follow me, then turned to leave the marketplace before the woman at the stall could stop me.

I had no idea what came over me in that moment, but whatever happened, I knew that I couldn't walk away from that stall without grabbing a bottle of Firebrand.

"Care to split it?" I asked the other woman as we headed for the gates leading out of the city. "I'm Roserana, by the way."

"Danilaith," she replied, sticking out her hand for me to shake. "I'll gladly share a bottle with you. I swear, I almost had her. I was too ambitious with my haggling, but if I had slowed down by just a little bit—"

"It wouldn't have mattered." We stepped through the gates when the guards opened them for us, then walked down the paved path toward the bay. "Firebrand wine is usually twenty septims more than what that woman was selling it for. At least, that's what it is back home."

"And where is home for you?"

"Cyrodiil. My family is here on business."

She laughed. "So is my father! He and I came from Markarth to oversee a shipment of silver here."

"My parents are merchants with the EETC."

Danilaith wiggled her eyebrows at me. "Fancy. You must meet a lot of interesting people."

We stopped when we reached the bridge that passed over the East Empire Trading Company's warehouse. I leaned against the short wall while Danilaith hopped on top of it, letting her feet dangle over the edge.

"Might want to come down from there once you start drinking," I joked while I popped the bottle open. I took the first drink, then passed her the bottle. Heat settled in my gut like molten metal, and I could already feel my stress melting away.

"I'll be fine," she assured me, kicking her feet as she overturned the bottle and took three gulps. When she came back for air, she had the easiest smile on her face.

The wine had gone straight to her head.

"I'm a Nord," she continued, hiccupping once. "The first thing I tasted in this world was a nip of mead. We're raised on alcohol."

"Which explains the rugged edges," I laughed before taking my next drink. "By the way, I wouldn't say that I meet interesting people. They're either fat merchants who spend more time trying to ensure that their posteriors have a cushy place to fall or crooked businessmen who want to undercut everyone around them so that they remain on top. Then there's the suitors." I groaned and took yet another drink to forget about the dread that I faced when I returned home. Once again, my parents would try to find a rich merchant's son for me to marry, so I would no longer be their problem. With the rest of my siblings married and running their own homes and businesses, my parents seemed to think that I was falling behind.

Never mind that I was five years younger than my older sister. I was the baby by a long shot, so why did they want me to be grown so fast?

"Parents using you like cattle?" asked Danilaith as she held out her hand for the bottle that I soon passed to her. "Why don't you just run away?"

A mirthless laugh burst out of me before I could stop it. "And do what? The only thing that my parents have ever taught me is how to be a trophy wife. Have I been taken care of? Yes, but have I been happy? Not always."

"Never too late to learn a skill." Danilaith tossed her head, her auburn curls bouncing in the sea breeze. She passed the bottle back to me. "My father is a miner, and he's a successful one at that. He makes enough that we could live inside any of the cities. My mother, siblings, and I wouldn't have to work so hard, but my parents think that it's important that we learn practical skills, too. My father has made it clear that he doesn't expect us to sit around and wait to inherit his money. He wants us to make something of ourselves."

"So what will you be?" I took my last drink from the bottle and gave the remainder back to Danilaith. "A farmer or a miner?"

"My own woman, whatever that makes me." She turned to me and smiled, eyes wrinkling at the corners and cheeks blossoming pink. "I don't really care. I'm only seventeen. I've got my whole life to figure that out."

When our gazes met, my heart seemed to skip a beat. Butterflies flapped up a storm deep in my gut, and I had to swallow a heavy lump in my throat. This woman in front of me was everything that was good about Skyrim. Her hands were worn, yes, and her skin sun-kissed, but she was gentle and adventurous and keen. Sharper than a whip and open to whatever the future held. How could she be so relaxed about what laid before her?

It was rare that I got a good feeling about a new stranger. I had been around so many questionable characters in my life. From the shady businessmen that my parents regularly hosted for dinner to the sons of those same shady businessmen who tried to win me over so they could demand my parents' riches as a dowry. Even my own brother and sister would've killed each other if they thought it would've earned them something in life.

Maybe I could learn a thing or two from Danilaith.

"When do you leave?" she asked as she gingerly got down from the wall. She wobbled a little, but otherwise remained upright. At least she had the sense to get down before she fell.

"Tomorrow morning," I admitted with some reluctance. I hated to meet someone like her knowing that I would only have to leave before I got another chance to talk to her.

"Let's keep in touch." She reached into her own satchel and took out a piece of paper and a thin stick of charcoal. With careful lettering, she wrote some things down on the small square and handed it to me. "Write to me here, and I promise that I'll do the same. Maybe our paths will cross here again."

I smiled. "I sure hope so." Gently, I slipped the piece of paper into my pouch. "Are you busy right now?"

Before she could answer, I overheard my parents' voices down below. They must've finished their meeting.

"I have to meet my father for lunch, sorry." Danilaith shrugged and took the last swig from the bottle of Firebrand wine. "But, really, don't be afraid to write to me. I'd love to keep in contact, Roserana. You seem like a really interesting woman, and I could use more interesting women in my life."

I really hoped she didn't say that just because she was drunk.

"I'll see you around, Roserana." She gave me a quick grin, a bow of her head, and one last hiccup before she spun on her heel and began to head back into the city. She whistled as she walked, stumbled a little, and laughed at herself.

Damn, I hoped she was right. I wanted to see her again.

I will see heragain. I'm sure of it.