A Million Roads to Nowhere

Keep On Like Nothing Happened

After breakfast, Patrick goes out to the terrace to think. He rests his elbows on the stone railing, gazing out at the view. He has to admit that the sight is pretty. The vibrant green of the trees are a striking contrast to the grey castle walls and complement the color of the soil nicely. He watches the Tabards' men go about their business, training and other such stuff. Patrick had found this sort of thing fascinating while at Alistair's, but here, it doesn't do anything to distract him from his thoughts.

What are we going to do? Patrick asks himself. What is Lena going to do?

He sighs, turning to go back inside, only to nearly smack into none other than Clementine, the Snake Lady.

"Thinking that hard is much better when you're drunk," Clementine says.

She's holding a glass of red wine in one hand, keeping the other placed on her hip. She steps forward, heels clicking softly on the cobbled floor.

"Patrick, isn't it?"

Patrick stares at her, frozen. Talking to her directly is far more intimidating than just being in the same room as her.

Quick, Patrick thinks, I have to make a good impression.

He manages a nod.

Clementine rests her elbow on the railing leisurely, standing sideways. She takes a sip of wine before offering the glass out to Patrick.

"It's from the Hoarfrost, cherry wine. It's not the strongest, but it works."

Patrick tentatively accepts the glass and brings it to his lips. It's so tart that he has to press his tongue to the roof of his mouth in order to get it down. He doesn't care for it much, but he doesn't want her to think he can't handle some wine.

He gives her a nod and a smile and takes another sip. One of Clementine's eyebrows twitches in response. Her eyes, blue as the sky, flick over him absently.

"Is this about your girl?"

"W-what?" Patrick stutters.

Clementine waves her hand. "The energy around her reeked this morning. It felt like I walked into the Grand Hall. Do you know why that might be?"

Patrick searches his brain. Grand Hall? That's where the Seelie Courts and the Unseelie meet at the solstices, supposedly. They'd meet for High Court, where they collaborate on issues important to both of them.

"No." It comes out like a question, wavering.

"If you're going to lie, do it well. That one was particularly terrible. My head hurts from the ringing."

Patrick grimaces and takes another sip of wine. "I promised Lena I wouldn't tell."

Clementine laughs. She looks out at the trees. She's silent for a few uncomfortable moments before speaking again. "Mab," she starts, confirming the detail Patrick has been trying so hard to ignore, "I can feel her around. Granted, anyone with half a brain could tell. I figured the shaman would have warned you two about making deals, especially the little girl who thinks she knows what she's doing. Making deals with Mab should have been out of the question."

Patrick downs the rest of the wine and sets the glass on the railing. "I tried to get her to stop."

Clementine hums. "People do what they want, even if that thing is fucking themself over."

He winces, wishing there were more wine in the glass. "You're not going to spread this around, are you?"

"What would be the point in that?" She seems to find this amusing.