Dazelia

The bottommost drawer of her small dresser contained a neatly-wrapped parcel. Daisy pulled it out for the first time in a long time and unwrapped it in her lap. Inside was a dress. While it seemed to have once been fine, now it was clearly travel-worn. She must have carefully examined each fiber looking for clues. Now she rubbed her thumb over the fabric of the left shoulder, where the stain of blood could still be seen faintly, even after having been washed. This was the dress she had been wearing when she was found bleeding and unconscious in the street.

Daisy was pleased to find her friends, Lowenna and Rowena, waiting for her on the other side of the door. She stepped outside and embraced each in turn. They were gratified to learn that she was doing alright, despite her lack of sleep. She then let them in to see how the man they helped rescue was faring. Each remarked in hushed voices how different he looked now compared to when they discovered him held captive in the camp.

Soon after the Mistress left, the healer Mellie Winterbloom arrived as promised, bringing with her far more supplies than she had the previous day. Upon inspecting her patient and learning there had been no significant incidents or changes through the night, she brought up a delicate subject; the man was positively filthy. It was apparent he hadn't been allowed to properly bathe himself for a very long time.

She wasn't used to feeling so drowsy. After the events of yesterday seemed to drain her to the bone, she expected to sleep like a rock. Such wasn't the case. Resting on the floor while a strange man slept in her cot likely had something to do with that, but add to that the countless new questions that swirled in her head, and she barely slept a wink.

Hope? Fear? Anticipation?

Daisy wasn't sure how she was supposed to feel. She had waited for so long to learn anything new about her past or identity that she had almost given up hope; and now, everything was happening so fast. First that crude woman “Susan” showed up yesterday, claiming that if Daisy met with her “friend” he had a “present” for her. The woman's refusal to offer any details was suspicious, but the opportunity to meet someone who apparently knew her from before she lost her memory was too intriguing to pass up.

In his mind, he wondered why he had gone through his years without enjoying music. The first time he heard of the music, it was being played by this harpist. It was such a soothing sound to him. Then as he was talking to the woman known as Daisy, a woman with a lute had come by. He would admit that the one with the lute had played beautifully. The woman who was playing was rather pretty as well though he was transfixed on her playing. Unfortunately, Daisy had left the two in a hurried manner.