The Watchers at the jail eyed the brunette suspiciously at first, but shrugged when she wasn't under escort. She'd had reason to visit before, and her uncle was in custody again, after all, having been unable to keep away from the drink when free.
Her brief sardonic half-smile acknowledged their evaluation of her, and she sashayed down the row of cells to the one she was starting to think of as her uncle's home. Her cerulean skirts swirled in just the right way, and she was rather pleased with the impression she thought she was making. It felt nice to be properly dressed and looking like someone successful these days. Sure, that success was a matter of windfall – but then, to a busker, windfall was very nearly the definition of success. Or so she told herself.
When she reached that cell, in the very back, she discovered her uncle had a cell-mate this time. She sighed to herself as she discovered they were both snoring to beat the lumberyard saws. "They must have been arrested together, both too drunk to leave." She slouched up against the wall by the door, looking at the two idly, then focussed her gaze more on the red-headed lumberjack.
"Well, Uncle Wes, I came here to see you in order to amuse myself, and I suppose I can do that by saying things to you this way that you might object to when awake." She tapped her chin in a moment of pondering. "Or, perhaps, for some of it, even wish you'd heard, if you knew." She shrugged, and shifted her position a little to get more comfortable.
"I think little Bela is warming up to me. Oh, you remember her, don't you? Short enough to usually duck under your fists, barely fourteen? Your youngest, and part of why you got locked up in here the first time? Yeah, I thought you might remember her, or at least beating her up. Problem is, I think Aunt Lettie is cuffing her at times now, too. Something about having to take in another mouth to feed and girl to dress without any more money coming in." She sighs, shaking her head. "Well, maybe I can do something for her soon." She snorts in apparent derision. "If she'll let me. Not that I'm sure how long my money will last if I start doing things like putting abused girls up in the Pony, anyway."
She shakes her head and sweeps her dark hair back, away from her face again. "Of course, Bela's warming to me because Aunt Dahlia already has. Now, I'm sure you remember her! Your wife? Mother of your five children? The one who took the most of your blows, even, I think, for all that Rhody showed more of them. Anyway, while she still doesn't trust me with, so to speak, small shiny things, she's learned to trust me in others. Like Rhody's well-being. Yes, she's alive – no thanks to you! – and being looked after. Even has a job, as a kind of… glorified maid, I guess. Not sure exactly, but nice clothes and a place to live come with her job."
She ponders briefly. "Though that does bring up Aunt Dahlia's job… she's a live-in maid a bit out of town somewhere. And she won't say where, and only has some afternoons free to visit in town. Says she has to be back by dark, and won't even come close to being late. Yet she keeps leaving money for Bela." She chortles. "If that girl added it all up, she might have more money than I do. She could put herself up in the Pony. Maybe even for the rest of her life. Not that she'd be happy with being an idle girl about town. But getting away from Aunt Lettie… I should put the idea to her. Maybe get her apprenticed to someone in town? Mmm, now there's a thought." She shrugs.
"But, anyway, I was saying how Bela's warming up to me. She's agreed to let me take her to see Rhody, now that she's sure I know where her poor, half-crippled sister is. No, it wasn't your blows that did the real damage – at least not so far as anyone can tell. She ran into brigands in the Chetwood when running from you. They beat her up even worse, and probably only left off with just beating her up so badly because it went past what they meant. Or maybe something spooked them? Who knows." She shrugs again. "No witnesses. Rhody wasn't conscious enough by then to count, even, for all she managed to gather herself up and stumble into… well, no, I'm not going to tell you where she is. But she got to a healer, mostly by sheer, dumb luck."
She fidgeted against the wall, glaring at her comatose uncle now. "But you're still the reason why she ran, and met those brigands. And is now almost blind and suffering dizzy spells enough that she can't leave the nice roads of where she's staying unless she has help. It would serve you right if you had to support her, instead of the lovely lady who's taken her in and hired her."
She closed her eyes and took some long, slow breaths. "Right. No point in getting too mad. Not all over again, and not now that at least Rhody can read again. For a while, her eyes were too messed up for even that – and she thought they'd stay that way. But they didn't, and she can embroider as well as read, and look after her lady's clothes and such, as well as her own."
Her next came in a near growl, getting some further looks from the Watchers. "But you still messed up the best friend I ever had in the family, and I'll never forgive you for that!" She heaved a deep breath and leaned her head back against the wall, seeming to have spent her venom after all, at least for now. "Old news, eh, Uncle Wes? You never wanted my forgiveness anyway." She chuckled, though with very little mirth to it.
"But I can't very well haul Bela off through the Chetwood and the dangers lurking there by myself. A lot of times, I don't even dare make the trip alone, and by myself I'm a lot sneakier – and faster – than I would be with her in tow. I need to get us a proper escort for it. Too bad that one nice dwarf I met before seems to have moved on. Of course, that's the way of most of the dwarves in town, isn't it? Merchants on their way from one mountain to another. I'm sure I'll see him again on a return trip, but he's not available as a guard just now."
She shook her head, looking toward her uncle again. "And no, your sons are turning out too much like you. I don't trust even Framsel with the job – and I don't think Bela would, either." She taps her chin as she ponders. "Maybe Miss Cesistya will know of someone suitable. Besides, I haven't talked to her in far too long, anyway. Way overdue for a visit."
She shrugs herself upright, and gives the man a sugary smile. "I do hope you and your cell-mate enjoy your little nap. Do try not to drool too much into your collar. You know how much you hate how that feels when you finally wake up." She giggles. "With any luck, they'll feed you runny eggs for breakfast again, too. I do so love hearing your complaints about what that does to your stomach!" She gives a mischievous laugh as she makes her way back along the corridor and out into town.
