“How incredible,” she whispered. “You come from singular people, Shepherd. I’ve never heard of such a family. From what I see in this moment you captured so beautifully, your father must have known he was dying and would never see you again.”
The Shepherd nodded.
“You didn’t know how to draw when you were young. So how long was it before you drew this image?”
“More than fifteen years after his death,” the Shepherd said and paused. “I have never forgiven myself for that.”
Adrianna looked up sharply.
“Why?”
“What do you mean, ‘why?’” the Shepherd snapped.
“Your father looks to me like the kind of man who knew his own mind. He made his choice.”
“I should have been there,” the Shepherd insisted.
“Were your uncles hard on you when you returned?”
“Not at all. They and my cousins couldn’t have been more kind. They reassured me every day that it gave my father so much peace to see me happy and excited when I left.”
“What was your nature like before you left?”
“I’m ashamed to say I was a very moody and unpleasant companion.”
Adrianna smiled ruefully.
“I can relate. Farming is a brutal labor that never ends.”
“It wasn’t the work I minded so much as the confinement. The stifling sameness day after day after day was unbearable.”
“You were a restless youth.”
“Child. Youth. Young man. Old man.”
“It sounds like your father understood you.”
The Shepherd paused, then nodded.
“My uncles swore he spoke of the morning I left every day with excitement and joy until the dawn they came to find him gone. He didn’t complain once about the pain, and worked every day. They said he had the blessing of dying in his sleep. They said he was radiant when they found him, his expression serene. ”
“If your father was so much at peace with his choice, why are you tormenting yourself?”
“It was wrong of me not to be there. I was all he had.”
“Apparently not. He had devoted brothers and nephews who worked with him every day.”
“I was his only child.”
“And his last vision of you was one of joy, anticipation, and hope. Isn’t that so much better than sullenness and frustration? Or grief and sorrow if he had even let you know he was dying? Your father left this world with the liberated spirit of a man who knew he had given his son the freedom he craved. Yet here you are, fighting the last wishes of a good man with your guilt.”
Adrianna tilted her head to the side and cocked her left brow.
“So as I asked before, ‘why?’ How does that honor your father?”
The Shepherd smiled slightly.
“You make a compelling argument, Adrianna. I never thought of it from that perspective.”
“Is it enough to set you free?”
“I don’t know about that. But right now, I do feel a little lighter.”
“That’s a rich compliment, Shepherd.”
Adrianna chuckled, the gleam in her golden eyes lightening the mood for a moment.
The Shepherd smiled, but he couldn’t help remembering the Wanderer’s story of his grandfather, the Bard, who sent his grandson away to travel, rather than staying to watch him die.
He remembered the bond he had felt when the lonely Wolf told him about that fateful evening on the wharf when he could finally mourn the loss of a man he deeply loved and respected.
Looking back, the Shepherd realized he had made his choice to invite the Wolf to come with him after he shared this.
“Shepherd,” Adrianna whispered. “It seems like you just went very far away.”
The Shepherd smiled.
“I did,” he admitted. “Coincidences are very odd.”
“What do you mean?”
“Shared experiences that make friends out of strangers. It’s a powerful bond that happens immediately.”
A sharp intake of breath, almost a hiss, made the Shepherd look up. Adrianna sat frozen in place, her eyes wide and staring.
“Are you all right?”
The Courtesan shook her head and came back to herself quickly. As if the moment had never happened, she smiled warmly.
“I’m quite well,” she replied. “I agree that it’s a shock to discover common ground with someone I don’t know, a shock which is not always pleasant and sometimes not unpleasant.”
Before the Shepherd could respond, she picked up the sketch of his father again.
“What a remarkable man your father was.”
“Yes.”
A random thought entered the Shepherd’s mind.
“Did you ever see your parents again once you left?”
“No.”
Adrianna’s tone was curt, and she flicked her eyes away when she answered.
“That was impossible, given the nature of how I departed. I think you will understand that after my next tale.”
Adrianna gathered the Shepherd’s sketches tenderly, rolled them and placed them back in his cache before handing them over with a smile. Her ability to recover quickly was unsettling to her guest.
“Again, thank you for sharing, darling Shepherd. I enjoyed your stories this morning.”
“You are very adept at drawing them out of me.”
“Years of practice,” Adrianna replied and grinned. “It is clear I’ve more of a fondness for spinning yarns than you do.”
“And you are a marvelous storyteller,” he said. “I regret that I can’t match your talent.”
Adrianna shrugged.
“I hope you warm up more as time passes. I have a hunch you have much to say and that there is richness to share from your life.”
“That’s not for me to judge.”
Adrianna looked at the Shepherd archly, and shook her head slowly.
“As it stands today, no stories for you. I have a formal engagement tonight and will be out rather late.”
The news caught the Shepherd off guard, and the sharp stab of disappointment more so.
After a few days, he had already grown accustomed to the daily intimacy of long visits and the trade of stories. He realized he enjoyed the company of the most celebrated Courtesan of the Capital City, and was shocked that she wouldn’t be there that evening.
Adrianna peered at him closely. The Shepherd flushed, knowing that his face betrayed his displeasure.
“You are always welcome to join me, darling Shepherd. There isn’t anybody in the Capital who wouldn’t die just a little for the opportunity to meet you.”
“I thank you and your friends for the extensive hospitality. But I’ll have to decline.”
Adrianna chuckled.
“Crowds?”
“Crowds.”
“Well, I definitely anticipated that answer.”
Adrianna stood and curtseyed, her bow low and exaggerated.
“I will finish my adventure with the Patron’s Daughter and the Sorcerer tomorrow night. The tale is rather grueling. A sensitive man like you might want to prepare yourself.”
