Emeral In Shadow

The Rusty Blade [#6]

The afternoon the next day, after sleeping through the morning, Gustaaf laid in Evelien's bed alone, every jagged line cut into his skin from the fight burning under bandages as he shifted in the sheets.
He didn't know exactly how he'd ended up there, but he had a decent idea.
Evelien had probably left for school already. She had left an envelope on a desk table next to the bed, with a piece of looseleaf paper with hastily written words.
Gustaaf held the paper up over his face, beginning to read the words.

'Hello Gustaaf, I'll try to be brief; I am sorry I could not be there to speak to you as you awake. I will be back before sunset as we have a meeting, we as in you and me, to attend at sunset.
The envelope is from this masked guy who broke into my house last night; he said it was for you so I didn't open it.
Get some rest so you're not grouching and moaning with every step tonight. Snacks in the pantry.'
'-Evelien'

Gustaaf sighed and set down the paper, taking then in hand the envelope.
He knew who it was from, he knew what it probably said; so what point was there in opening it? His hands lingered on the front of it for a while, picking half-heartedly at the paper.
Gustaaf sat up in bed, and drops the envelope into his lap. The cuts on his back burned on his bandages as he leaned on the wall behind him. Not thinking of anything in particular, his brain wandered.

He remembered the day he met Madelief, out in the forest between the Slums and her Farm. He had been out picking some plants for poison.

Gustaaf kneeled on the ground by recently uprooted soil, taking inventory of his spoils;
A bundle of hemlock, a dozen or so belladonna berries, foxglove...
He hears footsteps, human ones. It's clear by the soft crunch of twigs and leaves they aren't trying to be sneaky, and the slow pace shows passiveness, or at least non-lethality. They stop right beside him, and he can feel the presence of the person.
She speaks, "What're ya doin?"
Gustaaf gathers up his plants and puts them in a rucksack hung from his belt before responding. He can tell the girl is only curious, not aggressive. Good, as he has no idea if she owns this land, or at least claims it as her own.

"Foraging." He says, getting up off his knees and facing her; probably a farm girl, this given away by her overalls and straw hat, not to mention a certain stable strength to her general presence, grown over years of labor. A red ribbon was wrapped around the base of the straw hat, and Gustaaf thought it was a lovely addition.

"You's a slums boy?" She asked, before hastily adding with a light blush of embarrassment, "Not that you look it, but I reckon if you're out here foraging it means you probably can't afford food."
Gustaaf thought for a moment before answering
"Yeah, I'm from the slums." He told her, which was only partially true. He also can afford food, heck he could probably feed the whole slum he traveled through with his salary.

"Ahh, gotcha. I'm a slums baby myself, so no disrespect here. Name's Madelief, by the way." She said, smiling weakly.

"I'm Marijn." Gustaaf said, using his middle name. He never used his first name for personal reasons, not that he'd ever had any personal reasons.

"So... need any help foraging?" Madelief asked, Gustaaf noticed her tuck a rogue strand of hair behind her ear.
His heart raced in what Gustaaf took as apprehension or distrust, but he ignored it.

"Sure. I guess." He started moving forward, keeping his eyes glued to the ground for the right plants. Madelief followed closely to his side, but not enough to invade his personal space.

Gustaaf realized that a farm girl probably isn't that skilled in foraging, since you'd plant everything you'd reap back up.

"Do you know what to look for?" He asked Madelief, continuing to survey the ground,
"...Not really. Maybe you could, y'know, teach me how?" She replied.