I didn't have a chance to speak to Jaffaran again for months, it seemed. My father refused to have him at our table, which was an outrageous insult, but it's not as if Jaffaran was missing any good company. In fact, I think he got the far better end of that deal, as it meant he had a good reason to spend his time in the tavern. In addition to eating dinner there, he regularly led raucous singing sessions, with a whole new repetoire of bawdy songs for the miners to enjoy. Or so I'm told.
Our family's dinners used to be legendary gatherings of huge numbers of guests, but now they were rather dismal affairs with just our close family and a few cousins that stayed with us. And though we used to have regular parties or dances, we never really seemed to do anything like that anymore. My father hadn't always been so disagreeable, but something had happened in the last few years that had changed him. And it seemed that nothing I did now could please him, my mother or my older brother, Stellan. Only Torin had managed to keep his good cheer.
I did see Jaffaran working in the craft halls a few times, and obviously he was frequently with the children, teaching them their lessons. But despite all his busy schedule, and despite the fact that my father seemed to be going out of his way to make him miserable, Jaffaran always seemed to make the best of everything, and to find time to have fun and to make things fun for everyone around him. I envied him, I envied his students, and I envied my brother Torin, who was fast becoming friends with him.
"You should come along with us, Sanni," my brother would often say. "We're going fishing." Or, "We're going swimming." Or, "We're going to get a ball game together." But I couldn't figure out how to find the time. I had work to do just like they did, and then in my so-called "free time," I was constantly guarded by a couple of cousins, who never left my side. They meant well, but their gossiping and nitpicking drove me crazy, and I couldn't tell if their job was to keep me from doing anything that would displease my mother and father, or to keep me from doing anything at all enjoyable. The more time went on, the more I was starting to think those two possibilities were in fact the same thing.
I did still enjoy my work in the craft hall. My particular talents were with musical instruments, and I was especially known for the filligree work I would put on my guitars.
At least when I was there I didn't have to deal with my gossipy cousins, my work was appreciated, and I could have whatever freedom my schedule of orders allowed. In fact, it was my work that led me to my first real conversation with Jaffaran. One of the miners who played guitar in the tavern in the evenings had requested a special design. I'd finished it that morning, and so I asked to deliver it personally after the work shift ended.
That made it dinner time. And there was Jaffaran, as expected, sitting on one of the cushioned benches by the window.
I walked up to his table and offered a shy smile. I had planned an eloquent greeting, but promptly forgot it when he turned his head. For a moment, I considered running in the other direction, but he was looking at me rather expectantly. "Hello," I said simply.
"Lady Savna." Jaffaran nodded formally, but there was a twinkle in his eye. "I wasn't sure it was you, without your entourage in tow."
"My what?"
"The gaggle of geese that follows you everywhere, to make sure you don't get lost," he said, with a lopsided, teasing smile. "I think they're your cousins."
"Oh, them." I did my best to look nonchalant, though I was secretly thrilled that he had looked at me often enough to notice my constant companions. "They are indeed my cousins, but they're not there to keep me from getting lost."
"No?" he inquired, with a disbelieving tilt to his head. "But they're always telling you which way to go, and what do do when you get there. Which makes me wonder how you ended up here."
"Oh! I just--" I gestured up at the stage, where the musicians had started to tune their instruments. "The green one. I finished it this morning."
"It's lovely. Very lovely." As I turned back from my glance at the stage, I thought I caught him staring. He raised his ale cup to his lips again to finish off the last gulp. "Come on," he said, standing up and holding out his hand. "Let's break it in, shall we?"
"What?"
"You do know how to dance, don't you? I thought all of us heirs were taught the social graces from the time we were born. Don't make me think you're an unsophisticated, uneducated, foot-trampling miner girl."
One of the passing miners -- who happened to be a girl -- thumped him in the shoulder as she passed. He grabbed a napkin off the table, and snapped it at her backside. She made a terribly rude gesture at him with two of her fingers, and he laughed. I looked on in complete amazement.
"You look like a fish," Jaffaran whispered in my ear. "Close your mouth, and come dance with me."
"No, I can't."
"You mean you won't."
"No, I mean I can't. I shouldn't even be here. I've finished in the craft hall, and my mother will expect me home, and I have to change for dinner, and--"
"And you can dance one dance. It'll be over in seconds, I promise. You'll hardly even know it happened." He started toward the middle of the room, and I trailed along in his wake. As the musicians struck up a chord, he turned to see if I'd followed, smiled to find me there behind him, put an arm around my waist and started twirling me to the music.
"I've been watching you, you know." I blinked at him, stunned into silence again, and he couldn't help but laugh. "You do like making that fish face," he said. "But fear not, I haven't climbed up to your balcony while you were sleeping. I've just seen you around the craft hall and courtyard, and I've seen how unhappy you are."
This time I made a conscious effort to not gape. "That's impertinent. What makes you think I'm unhappy?"
He just smiled at me in a charming sort of way, and asked a question rather than answering. "Why don't you ever come out with your brother? Do they keep you locked up?"
"I can't."
"You mean you won't."
"Why do you keep saying that? It's not as though I can just do whatever I like, whenever I like. I have work, and duties and responsibilities."
"Oh, I see."
The more he spoke, the more infuriating that charming smile was starting to become. "I don't have a choice."
"Of course you do. We all have choices, Lady Savna. Our lives are all made up of them."
"That's nice to say," I replied, as we continued to spin around the tavern floor. "But you're far from home, and so you can do as you please. I'm expected to do as my parents tell me."
"And go straight home from the craft hall, and dress for dinner. That's a very hard life you lead."
"You're mocking me."
"I'm not," he said quietly. "But we all make choices all day, every day, each of us for our own reasons. I choose to come here for dinner because they make good pie. You choose to sit in the workshop for hours on end because goodness knows that if the world needs anything at all, it's more filigreed guitars."
"Now you ARE mocking me."
"Maybe a little," he laughed, still with that same charming smile, as he whirled me in the opposite direction. "But we all steer our own ships, Lady Savna. If yours is not going in the direction you want, maybe you need to put a firmer hand on the wheel."
I stopped in my tracks, stepping back from his chest and letting go of his hand, suddenly defensive. "I don't know how you were brought up in your family, but I was raised to do my duty and obey my elders, not shirk my responsibilities and sit around in taverns. You would do well to remember that you have your own duties here, and that you're housed and fed and allowed to stay only when you do them as my family pleases." They were borrowed words from my father, and I was ashamed to have said them as soon as they were out of my mouth. But I held my chin up, proudly, hoping he wouldn't notice the flush of my cheeks.
The bustle of the tavern stopped around us as the miners turned to stare. "Well, you are your father's daughter, aren't you?" Jaffaran narrowed his eyes at me, but not in an angry way. He looked more concerned, and even a little sad. His voice was quiet and calm, and matter-of-fact. "You know very well I've not missed a moment of work since I arrived here. And I'm not advocating for laziness or rebellion. But you do have a choice. And you choose to do what your parents want because you don't want to disappoint them, even when they're unreasonable. We may have reasons for our actions -- good reasons -- but that doesn't mean they're not choices. And it doesn't mean you can't sometimes make better ones. If you don't see that, if you don't take responsibility for your own life, then you're letting other people make you into what they want you to be, not who you are. "
I blinked him in confusion, partly because very few people had ever spoken to me that way, but mostly because I felt trapped in unhappiness, I missed the way my life used to be, and I didn't understand how a complete stranger could know me so well when we'd barely ever spoken. "That's none of your business," I said.
I was mortified as my voice broke on the last word, and Jaffaran's gaze softened into apologetic sympathy. Before he could say anything further, I backed away one more step, and then turned and ran for the door.
