“Excuse me,” Alaren muttered as she stood, replacing the fallen herbs into her bag and dusting the dirt from her skirts. The boy who had collided into her had long since scurried on his way, apparently towards the stables. Under other circumstances, Alaren would have found the encounter to be strange- the boy had seemed shocked, terrified even- but as it was she had grown so accustomed to peculiarities in Manetheren that she did not think twice about the child’s behavior.

The summer’s heat had not yet turned to fall, though nearly two months had passed since the coronation and the elm leaves should have turned long ago. The unusual weather had kept the farmers busy, and, while they did not complain of the mild season, they labored under a cloud of confusion and spoke of the weather in fearful whispers. Alaren had tried, for the sake of her constituents, to ignore the aura of strangeness that permeated the town. She had kept herself busy, involving herself in the social aspects of government while Saker preoccupied himself with the military, and making the development of a clinic her special project. Until today, the little infirmary had been exempt from the oddities that plagued the rest of the town, but now it too faced a queer problem. Alaren was still perplexed by the case when she arrived at the inn, and it was this rather than the frightened boy that occupied her thoughts as she stepped inside.

Once the doors of the inn had closed behind her, Alaren knew immediately the source of the boy’s discomfort. Fragments of the power hung in the air, and Alaren could immediately sense a channeler. As it was, she knew of only one other woman in Manetheren who could channel, and, sure enough, there sat Thelize Shwinn, glancing at Alaren with a look of moderate disgust across her face. Alaren could only imagine what that women had done to frighten the child so, and, though she would have rather avoided the other woman all together, she felt somewhat obligated to see what mischief Thelize was up to. Alaren still knew little about Thelize, though she had been fairly unsuccessful in avoiding the woman, and still after two months she felt distinctly uncomfortable in her presence. There was something odd about her, something that she was determined to uncover if it killed her.

Thelize’s displeasure was apparent when she obviously saw Alaren approaching her table, but Alaren ignored her and seated herself gracefully across from her. She could feel eyes on her back as the inn’s patrons recognized her; it was certainly peculiar for the Queen to be dining out of the palace at an inn, and everyone was clearly making all sorts of unreasonable speculations as to her business there and her presence with Thelize (who most of the town understood to be a stranger and a wanderer.) In truth, Alaren had no reason to be there except that she had found that often the most essential elements of politics took place in the common room of inns, and so made it a point to frequent them.

“Good evening, Miss Shwinn,” Alaren said politely as the serving woman hurried to bring a mug of virgin cider. “I see you have had a productive day, frightening small children, etcetera.”