Kelwyn blinked at the foul language. He was used to street people swearing, but one of the Queen’s Own? Then again, he was a street person, and also part of the Queen’s Own. He had no idea where Elania came from. Her accent was pure upper class, though the milder, less affected version of such, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything. His own accent had mellowed considerably over the last few years spent around people who hadn’t grown up in the poor quarter.
“So tell me about yourself,” he said. “Where are you from?”
“I grew up in farm country, little bit south of the tower. We grew pumpkins. And a bunch of other stuff, but my dad had some weird pride in the pumpkins. I hated every gourd-strewn mile of it, but loved reading and math. I got a job as a scribe as soon as I could and moved
