Aran could see warm lights glowing in the windows beneath the low-hanging thatched roofs as folk settled in for the evening. It reminded him of Korrin... and of his mother. He wondered what she was doing, at that moment. Was she well? He felt ashamed that he hadn’t thought of her more often, but the sheer magnitude of his responsibilities had pushed her to the back of his mind. He hoped she was safe and well. ‘Aros protect her,’ he whispered in prayer.Earlier, Smythe had ridden a wide ring around. He picked a pew towards the back and ushered her in before himself so that he was seated near the aisle. She sat down and fixed her floral print dress, trying to pull it up over her cleavage. He leaned back against the wooden bench and watched her; he could tell that her old religious guilt was really getting to her, and at this, he smiled to himself. The choir began to sing and everyone rose with a hymnal in hand. However, he remained seated and pulled at the back of her dress as she began to. More

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