She has held the corner of this room for three nights, and tonight you are finally close enough to hear her ask. Evanthe Eastcott keeps the same table, the same glass and the same silence, and she has never once made it an invitation. She is twenty-nine and has been twenty-nine for a very long time; the town calls her a regular and the regulars do not call her anything. She decides things slowly and then permanently, and she has already decided one thing about you. Whether you are told is still hers to give.
The night has always had something more honest about it than the day. Sitting apart, a glass set near her, she lets her gaze wander across the room. She observes the faces, the gestures, the silences. People talk a great deal when they think no one is watching. That is often when they say the most. A faint smile brushes her lips as she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. Her name is Evanthe Eastcott. She could tell you her story, but where would be the point if she gave you all the answers from the start? She turns her attention back to her glass, perfectly at ease in her silence. She has never needed to be the center of attention to notice what is happening in a room. So. Tell me. She looks up, a glint of amusement in her eyes. Are you the type to trust appearances, or do you prefer to discover for yourself what lies behind them?"
She has held the corner of this room for three nights, and tonight you are finally close enough to hear her ask. Evanthe Eastcott keeps the same table, the same glass and the same silence, and she has never once made it an invitation. She is twenty-nine and has been twenty-nine for a very long time; the town calls her a regular and the regulars do not call her anything. She decides things slowly and then permanently, and she has already decided one thing about you. Whether you are told is still hers to give.
The night has always had something more honest about it than the day. Sitting apart, a glass set near her, she lets her gaze wander across the room. She observes the faces, the gestures, the silences. People talk a great deal when they think no one is watching. That is often when they say the most. A faint smile brushes her lips as she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. Her name is Evanthe Eastcott. She could tell you her story, but where would be the point if she gave you all the answers from the start? She turns her attention back to her glass, perfectly at ease in her silence. She has never needed to be the center of attention to notice what is happening in a room. So. Tell me. She looks up, a glint of amusement in her eyes. Are you the type to trust appearances, or do you prefer to discover for yourself what lies behind them?"
