Olive didn't meet Christophe's eyes when he affirmed her task; rather, her gaze was fixed somewhere in the distance as she listened to the man. His hand on her shoulder made her feel oddly like a child, or like he was deputizing her, she wasn't sure. But she couldn't help but think for a moment of her own father, what he thought or knew about what was going on here, or about her.
When Christoff was done, she looked up at him, and simply nodded. "After all the work shifts are over and the night guards are on watch, I take whatever scrap firewood I can manage around to some of the older mages. The night guard know about it already. They're alright, and as long as I'm not too late, they don't mind. I'll go to the priest after I've done that... and hope I'm not too late." She gave a little shrug to say, safety-wise, that was really all she could do.
"Alright, well take care, child," Bess said resignedly, rising to escort the others out of her tent. Bremen echoed her sentiment and Olive left with Darnell. The two younger mages typically left first; an unspoken admission that the older mages might have other business that they weren't privy to.
"Well, I can't say that I love the way you go about everything, Olive," Darnell sighed, shaking his head at the girl. "I mean, he's a priest, for Angsar's sake! I would certainly hope we can trust him, or we can't trust anyone." This was a bit tongue-in-cheek. Both knew that they couldn't really trust anyone. "But I got your back, either way."
"Thanks," Olive said soberly before turning the other way, "I hope we can, too."
Bromlin immediately shot Neil a look that she should hold her tongue. There had already been too much said and the last thing that the Lieutenant wanted was to give the impression so quickly that matters were not entirely under control at Valinarus.
"It's no joke." It was Fawley who finally spoke up, noting the smoldering looks passing between the two older officers. "I imagine, politically-speaking, sending his daughter here was the only option available to the duke. Major Neil here is just angry that we won't let her use Lady Carwick to make a political statement of her own."
Neil opened her mouth to make an angry retort, but Bromlin held up his hands. "Peace, peace," he interjected. "That's more than enough of that. Father, I'm sure you've already had an exhausting day, burdening yourself with the troubles of the soul. And we all still have duties to attend to before the night is out. I'm sure you'd like to retire to your cabin, as humble as it is." It was far from a suggestion, or even a request. "But I have to thank you, Father, for joining us. I hope I can look forward to dining with you while you're here? I'd be quite interested to hear your thoughts during your stay."
Olive dropped the last bundle of wood - just scraps and twigs, really, but they would burn better than the cold empty air - by the makeshift fireplace shared by three old women, all over seventy. She found that this was when her years of aggressively staying positive and friendly (then in light of wearing a Mark) came in handy the most. She chatted brightly with the old women for a few minutes, putting on an air of let's-make-the-best-of-this that she didn't really feel. Not tonight, at least. She kissed the women on the cheek, then head out into the cold autumn night. She flashed a grateful and slightly sheepish smile to the night guard as she led her way, ostensibly on her way home, but once she left his sight, she swerved and headed to the small chapel. Olive wished that she had Dac, her tracker, with her, but he was back in the shack that she shared with Orchid and the Carriage twins. He was a great comfort to the children in the camp and she hated depriving them of that, but it would certainly be nice to have the shaggy bear at her side now. She paused and looked carefully around when she reached the chapel then, seeing no one, slipped quickly and quietly inside.
Her heart racing, she scanned the dimly lit little chapel, hoping that nothing would go wrong. "Father?"