When real winter arrived, it arrived suddenly. They had only been in Esler Tigo for a few days when they woke up to see the entire valley covered in deep snow. It fell all day, through the night, and into the following day. It didn't stop for days, which Jale assured them was common enough, if a little unusual for the first snowfall of proper winter. Soren was just happy they weren't out with the carriage. The snow was pretty, when he could watch it from the warmth of the governor's palace.

Days turned into weeks, and while the snow stopped falling they still spent most of their time in the palace. Reng Runolorinn had taken quite a liking to Tanden and was happy to let them stay in the palace. They often joined the Governor and Orearaley for meals, and sometimes, but not nearly often enough for Soren's liking, Jale joined them. He felt out of place at those meals, and not only because Tanden could charm the nobles in Tallenese while he sat quietly and ate. It was because they were rich and noble and Tanden was one of them, so he fit in effortlessly. Jale was more like Soren, lower class, pretending to be important. He could talk to her while Tanden talked to the nobles.

But even with the fancy meals, visits to the temple, and afternoons exploring the city, Tanden got bored. He couldn't be stationary. If it hadn't been for the snow, they would have moved on by then, to the next village, the next city, or even just being on the move in the forest. Soren did his best to distract and entertain Tanden, when he wasn't busy with the Governor. Still, every day he could see Tanden getting more agitated.

It was snowing again the day Soren came up with a new idea, one he would need Jale's help with. Tanden went to dinner with Reng Runolorinn, and Soren pretended he wasn't feeling well to skip it. Jale was staying in a room down the hall, and once Soren was sure dinner had started, he slipped out of their room to knock on her door.

She opened the door and stepped aside, so he could walk in. "I thought you had dinner."

"No, I said I wasn't feeling well."

Jale let the door close behind him, and walked across her room. Her room was warm, lit by the roaring fire in her fireplace. Jale settled cross-legged into one of the armchairs closest to the fire, and Soren sat down on the other one. He was nervous, his idea rattling around in his head. It was something Tanden would like, he wasn't worried about that, but getting the whole thing set up was different.

"I need your help."

"I'm not technically employed by you right now," Jale replied idly. She had a thin piece of wood balanced on her lap, acting as a table as she wrote what looked like an already fairly long letter.

He was already so caught up in his own head that it took Soren a moment to see the joke in her dry response. "Very funny. I need you help finding some... one. For Tanden."

"Some...one?" She repeated, pausing exactly the same way he had. The firelight sparkled in her eyes as she looked up. "Is this anything like the Violet House?"

"How did you—"

"How did you think he found it?" Jale interrupted. She glanced at her letter, then put it aside and leaned forward, with her elbows on her knees. "All right. Tell me what you need."

"I want—" Somehow this felt like the hardest part of the plan, even though he trusted Jale entirely. "I think I want to get him a woman."

"Ah. You like women?"

Soren shrugged. "Aye. Not as much as he does, though. I just thought... In Till, he hired a man at the Violet House for me," he explained. "Well, for both of us, really. I thought I could return the favour. And... he's bored."

"He is," Jale agreed with a thoughtful nod. "I'm sure we can find you someone."

"Tonight?"

Jale blinked. "Tonight? I did say I'm not employed by you, right?"

"Aye. So I'm lucky you're such a good friend."

"Yes. I'm an excellent friend to go out in this weather to find you a woman." Jale put aside her letter and stood up. "You can't go outside dressed like that, you'll freeze."

"Right, of course. I'll meet you in a minute," he called back to her as he rushed out of the room.

The snow really was terrible, like little pieces of ice pricking his face. Soren pulled his woolen hat low over his forehead, and stared at Jale's footprints so ice wouldn't get in his eyes. She was only a few steps ahead of him, but already by the time he stepped in her tracks they had almost been swept away by the wind. He hadn't really considered how bad the weather was, which made him appreciate Jale that much more.

She kept them on the side streets. Soren understood why the one time they had to cross one of the main roads, as wind whipped in from across the valley. The little streets were more sheltered. Jale led him through knee deep drifts of snow that had built up in alleys, but she kept them out of the wind as much as possible.

Soren was starting to seriously second guess his entire plan when Jale finally kicked aside a little pileup of snow and pushed open a door. Sound cascaded into the street, and Soren could feel the warmth before he even stepped inside. Jale tugged off her hat and unwrapped her scarf almost immediately, and Soren followed suit.

There was a huge fire in the middle of the room, tended to by a pair of children with long sticks. The room was round, as Soren was beginning to realize was common, and comfortable and cozy looking couches were pushed against every wall. Thick carpets covered the floor everywhere by the entranceway.

Jale kicked off her boots and placed them in the wooden shelves by the door. Soren copied her, and then followed her across the room. Directly across from the entrance was a counter, where a man stood in front of a wall of bottles.

"Is this a tavern?" Soren asked.

"Tavern, brothel, it's the same thing." Jale leaned on the counter and started talking to the man. She gestured at Soren a few times, and finally the man nodded his head in the direction of a well-lit staircase. Jale said something else before giving Soren a hearty pat on the shoulder. "Come on."

He expected to climb up the staircase, but instead Jale went around it to climb down some well-worn stone steps. Soren followed, equally confused and curious. The stairs opened into another large round room that looked very similar to the last, even down to the windows. "Aren't we underground?" he asked.

Jale gave him a look he had come to recognize well. "Esler Tigo is built on a mountain." She held up her arm at a slant. "The top half of the building is here, go down some stairs." She walked her fingers down her arm. "The second half is here. Still above ground."

"Oh. Right."

Jale dropped her arm and led him to this floor's desk. Instead of a barkeeper, a woman was seated behind the desk, her eyes skimming a book as she divided up piles of coins. "She's counting how much money they're making with the food and drinks upstairs," Jale explained, as Soren's gaze flickered over the coins. "It's common across Tallen Tiya for women to handle money. But I don't think it's as common in Zianna?"

Soren shrugged. "Depends on the woman. Women usually run brothels."

"But not taverns?"

"No. I guess not."

"Zianna sounds like a strange place." Jale laughed, before stepping up to the desk. Just as she had upstairs, Jale gestured at Soren a few times during her conversation. The woman eyed him, and pulled out a thin book from under her desk. She flipped through the pages and ran her finger down a line of writing. Names, Soren assumed.

He jumped a little when Jale spoke in Teltish again. "What kind of money are you willing to spend?"

He did some quick calculations. "Will she take siyas?"

Jale turned back to the woman, and a moment later said. "She would prefer wies, but siyas would be acceptable."

"I have ten thousand wies with me, and about a thousand siyas at the palace that I can use if I have to."

"You're... infuriatingly rich," Jale said, rolling her eyes. She spoke to the woman again, and after a few more words back and forth, the woman stood and called out either a handful of names, or a sentence of some sort. Soren couldn't tell.

"How much will it be?"

"Depends on what you expect. By the way, I didn't tell her you're carrying around ten thousand wies. You shouldn't be."

"Why? How much will it be?"

"Around four thousand. And that's pricey."

"But the Violet House—"

"Caters to rich merchants and nobles," Jale interrupted. "This place caters to farmers and the occasional caravan driver or ranger. Here she is."

The woman who had walked up to them was wearing a long white dress-like tunic over thick pants. She had a purple scarf woven with silver designs draped over her shoulders and snugly wrapped around her waist. She was a little shorter than Jale, and decidedly curvier. Her dark hair hung loosely around her shoulders, and her narrow eyes trailed up and down Soren's body curiously. She didn't look away when she spoke to Jale.

All three women spoke for a moment, and Soren began to really doubt whether this plan was a good idea when the young woman giggled in response to something Jale had said.

Soren turned to her. "What did you say? Does she think I look funny?"

"Oh, no." Jale crossed her arms and cocked an eyebrow. "No, she thinks you look handsome and exotic. She was just asking if the rest of your body matches your pale face. But I told her I haven't seen all of you, so I'm not sure."

"I'm not that much paler than you."

"You weren't," Jale agreed. "When you were tanned from that Southern sun of yours. But tans fade...mate?" It didn't come across as confidently as she had likely hoped, more like she was questioning the use of the word.

"Right." And Soren decided to swing fully into his accent, just to throw her off. "Reckon you'll tell me more 'bout this lovely lass, then? Knowin' her name, be a nice place to start, aye?"

"That's Teltish?" Jale shook her head. "Her name is Orearayni, but she insists you call her Rayni."

"Isn't that the..." Soren hadn't quite figured out the terminology. "The governor's partner's name?"

"More than one person can have the same name," Jale said. "But actually, no. Her name is Orearaley. This is Orearayni. Different names. Although it is very likely she's named after the governor's lover. So now what? Are you paying her for the night?"

Soren had never liked discussing the money side of these interactions. "Yes. I would like to. She's beautiful. Does she know about Tanden?"

Jale nodded. "I told her all about your eetorikey and how she'll be with both of you."

"But we're not married."

"Maybe not officially. Still, it was an easy way to describe who he is to you. And she's curious about him, anyway. Two tall foreign men is better than one."

"Is it?"

"Personally, I would rather none," Jale said. "But I can't account for her taste in men, can I? Now, go ahead and pay the mistress so we can go back out into that snowstorm, mate."

Soren stepped around her and reached into his pocket for the money. "You're not really saying that right."

"Tanden says it like that all the time."

"No," Soren laughed. "There's more to it."

"No. You're just in love."

He slid the coins across the table and waited while the woman counted them. Only when she gave him a brief smile did he turn back to Jale and Rayni, who had pulled on a thick cloak. "Aye, true enough. But you can't just say 'mate'. It's not his word, anyway." Even if Tanden made it seem like it was, like he had invented it solely as a term of endearment. It sounded different when he said it for Soren. It always had.

Jale shook her head. "You two..." she trailed off with a sigh. "Let's get back to the palace."

Tanden hadn't really recognized how much Soren's presence at these meals had meant to him until he wasn't there. Soren could never participate in the conversations, but that didn't matter much. Tanden had gotten so used to having Soren by his side, even more so than he had on the Wanderlust. But Soren wasn't feeling well, and above everything else Tanden wanted to be with him. Helping him feel better in any way he could. Instead, despite his personal feelings, he had to dedicate his attention to the Governor. Their stay at the palace depended on it.

"I still don't know that I quite understand. You travelled here on your own, without a proper escort?" The older man was the embodiment of one of the many reasons Tanden had shied away from life as an ambassador. He was an advisor, or minister, somehow related to Reng Runolorinn, or just close friends—Tanden couldn't keep track. The man was exactly the type of person Tanden hated talking to. He was certainly smart and well respected, but he didn't understand simple concepts that meant everything to Tanden, like the idea of travelling just for one's own enjoyment. He had probably explained himself ten or so times to the same man over the various meals he had been invited to.

"I don't have an escort." Tanden spoke as patiently as he could manage. How Tandrael could stand these kinds of talks over and over again was something he would never understand. "I don't need armed guards following me around, and I prefer not to draw so much attention. My goals are to see cities for what they truly are, not the show they put on for visiting nobility. An escort would make it hard to do that. My men stayed behind to work and care for my ship, and Soren and I sought out a more traditional way to travel."

The advisor nodded slowly, but if he heard any of Tanden's words they still didn't make much sense to him. "You will be fostering a friendship between Tallen Tiya and... Zianna?"

"I can make connections, yes." Fostering a friendship might have been a bit of a stretch, but he could certainly put people in contact with Tandrael if he needed to.

Reng Runolorinn cleared his throat. "This isn't meant to be a business meeting, let's move on. Lord Tanden, where is your eeto?"

Tanden took a sip of irdka. He still hadn't gotten used to the casual way people referred to Soren as his eeto, but he loved it. There was absolutely no judgement, hardly any thought behind it at all. Their relationship just existed. "He wasn't feeling well tonight, I'm afraid. We don't do well staying in one place for long, although your palace is certainly one of the nicest places we've ever stayed."

The Governor smiled. "Yes, you long to continue your adventure, I understand. I can't stop you from travelling, of course, but I would never suggest it. Travel in winter is discouraged, although sometimes necessary. I expect your ranger would charge you extra for the risk, though. They often do when the weather gets bad."

Tanden laughed. "Yes, well, I do appreciate our rooms. That said, I would like to excuse myself early tonight to check on Soren. By your leave?"

Reng Runolorinn nodded. "Of course. Give him my well wishes. Goodnight, Lord Tanden."

Tanden drank the last of his irdka before standing up. "Goodnight, Reng Runolorinn. Thank you." The conversation around the table picked up again as he walked out, and gestured for one of the servants to follow him into the hallway. They were used to him by then.

"I'd like a plate of food brought to my chamber," he said. "And a bottle of irdka."

The servant nodded and rushed off towards the kitchens, while Tanden strolled down the hallway to his chamber. Everyone was used to him being around by then. The first few days, he and Soren had received suspicious glances and often had to explain themselves. Now Tanden had sort of melted into the crowd of other minor nobility and high-ranking people who lived and worked in the palace. The guards and servants all treated him with respect and were willing, if not always eager, to help him out. It wasn't quite like being in West Draulin, but it was similar enough that he often found himself reliving moments with his brothers, or his parents, or Acell.

Tanden pushed open the door at stepped into his chamber. "Soren, how—" he paused, when he realized the only person in the room was a servant checking on the fire. "Where is he?"

The servant nearly dropped the log he was trying to carefully place in the fire. "My lord, he... I'm not sure, sir. I saw him with the ranger."

"In her room?"

"No, my lord, walking down the hall."

So now he had to search the palace for them. "Thank you,"Tanden said to the servant, before stepping back out into the hallway.