5 June:
After a rather dramatic start, my time in the greater Bree area has settled down rather more quickly than I had hoped. I haven't seen Arthur since a day or two after the hat incident, and he was so engaged in abstruse historical meanderings about swordplay with some other fellow who boorishly invited himself into the conversation, that I don't think either of them noticed when Liffey, Caein, and eventually I, were driven away from the table. Since then, Bree has proven as quotidian and rustic as any might despair to hope. To be sure, it is no Trestlebridge, but neither is it some bustling, cosmopolitan hub of vibrancy. Though I have seen and spoken to several lovely ladies and fine gentlemen, I have yet to see a single dance, and heard scant few songs. Nor, perhaps, is Bree a market with much interest in elegant furnishings; the notice I posted in the market has elicited not a single contact. To make a living, I may be compelled to set aside fine joinery and elegant engravings, satisfying as they may be, in favor of crude sheds for swine, before which pearls may be strewn.
My only hope in this regard is Liffey, who has employed me to make some shelves. Just shelves, sadly, but one must start with what boot-straps one can reach. I have yet to see her house to take measurements, so my efforts are somewhat stalled, but I have secured the services of a forge-master who is working on the wrought iron brackets. At first she wanted simple and plain, but I persuaded her to consider something beautiful, and am making every effort to deliver on that promise, in hopes if she is satisfied and pleased, she will speak well of my work to others. For this reason I asked a scant ten silver coins, though the materials, the rental of tools from the Three Farrow guild, and the forge-master's work, will together consume eight. How will ever I procure my own tools and materials at this rate?
Another concern crosses my mind concerning Liffey: I have not seen her since the evening she spent in my room at the Peach, and my entreaties at her door, for the measuring of her kitchen, have yielded no reply. I did encounter Caein at the Pony, in the company of my sister, who seemed dreadfully eager to blurt out about how Liffey had spent a night in my company, as if it were something I had been keeping secret (I had not, though Liffey had made a failed attempt to extricate herself unseen). Caein also seemed overly interested, and perhaps threatened, though why he should see a rival for one he chooses not to claim, I cannot fathom. I took pains to try to make clear, as much as one could without speaking indiscreetly in so public a venue, that there was no ongoing concern here. Liffey chose, at a time when she felt her overtures elsewhere had been rebuffed, one evening of company, but there was never any expectation of more. If I see Caein in a more private setting perhaps I will endeavor to be more painfully explicit to the man that I represent no threat nor rivalry. Should he decide to accept her overtures, he may rest assured I have no interest in coming between them. Yet Piper and Caein both seem determined to make this situation full of drama and fraught with conflict whether it exists or not; might Liffey be avoiding me for the same reason? Which, if it persists, in addition to costing one of the only friends I've made in Bree, would leave me with seven silver coins worth of materials I will never be able to recoup, and a nearly empty purse. Hardly a beginning to inspire confidence! Hopefully she was simply out when I called, and has no such propensity to spectacle.
Apart from Piper's seeming delight in gossip, she and I have settled into a more pleasant siblinghood than I anticipated. Knowing that in the past I had been too aloof, I have been pointedly entreating to be more cordial. Once she was put out of any concern that I wished to have more part in the Peach's keeping than to be its guest, we have gotten on well enough, and are back to teasing one another. (More her teasing me than the converse, thus far; I need to make a good early impression so I err on the side of pleasantry.) The staff, particularly Margot, seem less than fully felicitous of my presence, or so Liffey sensed. My attempts to erase any burden I add to their work by helping out in the kitchen proved unhelpful, as their organization is unclear to me and I put things in the wrong places. Should I one day have my own tools and a ready supply of materials, I will offer to make a custom cabinet for Margot to help her organize her materials and supplies, by way of a gift of ingratiation; but that seems far off.
Apart from that consideration, the Peach is most comfortable and pleasant. Piper has blossomed into the role of proprietress with even more grace and talent than I had anticipated, which was considerable (she always seemed well suited to the role our parents left for us). And little surprise, her being my twin, that she has an excellent sense of aesthetic and a deft hand at decorating. In time when I can afford to, I will replace some of the Peach's furnishings with showpieces of my own handiwork, both further beautifying the inn, and providing me a chance to show off my best.
For as many people as grace the Peach, and the Pony, of an evening, it is distressing how many are stand-offish and private, in such public places. It makes it hard going to establish appropriate acquaintanceships, or to solicit the possibility of business. Perhaps people are reticent from being frightened of a challenge to swordplay?
