The young woman smiles. Her auburn hair is tied in a pink sash. “I am.”
She’s a younger, rosier version of Ryrick. She has his same shade of deeply olive skin, hazel irises, and almond-shaped eyes. “I see.”
“What do you see?”
“You must be Ryrick’s daughter.”
“That’s right.” She timidly holds out a hand. “I’m Patience Siron.”
“My name is Elanor.” I pass her the note. “Ryrick wanted me to thank you for the headache remedy. He asked me to pick up six jars of witch hazel cream.”
She quickly tucks away the note. “It’ll be a moment. I need to mix the cream.”
“It isn’t a problem. Do you want me to come back?”
Patience smiles. “If you don’t mind, I welcome the company.”
Conversation doesn’t come naturally to me, but Patience is an unusually focused and quiet individual. I find her persona
