Regynn Winters

Gifting

“Come on Reggy. Don’t go darlin. You can’t leave me alone on Winter Veil Eve.” 

The priestess paused, raising her head from the stack of parchment she was gathering, “Somehow I think you’ll survive.” she remarked dryly, stepping out of his reach as a guard moved toward the prisoner. “Mind your manners Bartleby or they won’t let me come back and then who will write letters to all your lady friends back home?”

Bartleby pressed a hand to his chest, his countenance the picture of shocked dismay, “Them’s my cousins just like I told ya lovey. You know I only have eyes for you.”

Regynn shared a knowing glance with the guard as she walked passed him, “Yeah Bart, I love you too.” she called over her shoulder, winking at the armored man who suppressed a grin as he closed the cell door behind her.

“You might want to watch that one Sister Regynn, he’s slipperier than an eel. He’s trying to take advantage of your good graces.” Drayden said.

“Oh I’m well aware that the only thing he sees in me is the prospect of an early release. Can’t say I blame him. Thirty years in this place is a long time, I’d be desperate to get out too.” the priestess said as she followed the guard to the top of the stairs, leaving the din from the cells behind.

She paused as they reached the outer door and reached into her basket, pulling out a small bundle wrapped in brightly colored holiday paper, “I know you’re going to be stuck here during the festivities so I brought you a little something.”

The guard sniffed at the paper, his deeply lined face splitting into a well pleased grin, “Meat pies! Sister Regynn you’re the best.”

She waved his words away, “It’s the least I could do since you helped me out with my little project.”

Drayden paused in his admiration of the savory scented paper and asked, “Yeah? You got it with you? You gonna let me see?”

Regynn nodded and set the basket on a rickety table, removing the letters she’d written for the prisoners and retrieved another package. She unfolded the festively colored paper and pulled out a piece of folded fabric. Carefully she shook it, revealing a formal shirt, the white linen crisp, the stitching meticulous and minute.

The guard looked the garment over appreciatively, “If your young man doesn’t like it I’d be more than happy to take it off his hands. That’s some fine work there Sister.”

Regynn smiled absently as she folded the shirt and put it back in her basket, “Marc’s not my young man Dray, we’re just friends. But thanks, I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“Friends huh?” he nodded toward the basket, “Whatever you say miss. And don’t you think nothing of it. Glad I’m the same size as him. I’ll be happy to be your dress dummy anyday.”