Chapter 104: Brynhild is Blind?

"Brynhild is blind?" Sophia’s voice came out small and incredulous.

She felt like burying herself into a hole. The fact that she had not even noticed it was what made her feel mortified.

"Um...everyone knows that." Ronan said to her with a laugh.

Sam laughed too. "Even I know that she’s blind. How did you not notice?" She asked her.

"I don’t know!" Sophia cried out.

Tobias, as if he hadn’t just been watching the exchange, tipped his head. "Didn’t you ever think her eyes were weird? A bit different from the rest of us?"

Sophia flushed at the implication. "I thought they were unique. I had no idea she was blind."

"But wait a minute," Sophia said after a pause. "If Brynhild is really blind then explain how she’s able to tell people apart. I’ve never seen her looking at the wrong side even once when speaking."

"That’s because she honed her other senses. Brynhild can tell each person apart in a crowd and it out worse when she got pregnant." Tobias explained.

Sophia sighed as understanding washed over her. "That really does explain a lot."

"Come on Sophia, no need to sulk just because you failed to get information that everyone already knew. It’s not your fault you weren’t observant enough." Ronan told her with his hands over her shoulders like they were comrades.

Sophia glared at him but he just laughed instead because there was no heat in that gaze.

"And that’s enough conversation for now." Ronan declared, clapping his hands together. "It’s time to explore."

He turned to Sophia. "I promised you a grand tour and that is what I shall do, my lady." He said with a bow.

"You can stop with the theatrics, Ronan." Sophia said with an eye roll but curtsied like a lady making Ronan laugh.

He began to shepherd her through the crowd. The square was a tapestry of lanterns and motion: tables of steaming food, a stall piled with honeyed pastries, a smith with a small forge where he was hammering metal into charms, a woman braiding ribbons and tying them with tiny runes, and the moonfin bowls, whose tiny pearled fish flickered in the shallow water and flashed like caught stars.

The air was a weave of scents, roast meat and sapwood, spiced tea and frying oil, underpinned by the colder high note of smoke from the fire pits. Lanterns swung overhead in long ranks, throwing soft gold down into faces and making the snow at the edges glimmer. Music tucked into the corners: a low flute, a drumbeat steady as a heart.

They passed various stalls. A woman sold little carved wolf heads threaded onto string, the wolves’ eyes painted with minute runes. Another booth laid out neatly sorted jars of herbs for charms: rosemary to remember, lavender to soften grief, a brittle sweet incense that smelled of distant warmth. The stalls that had been closed in the morning were now lit and full; ribbons and trinkets dangled, prizes glimmered, and the whole square seemed to hum with intent.

Ronan pointed out a few vendors by name...this baker’s cinnamon tarts were worth the wait, that tinker made bell charms that chimed luck. He spoke in the light, easy way of someone who belonged to all of it; Sophia listened and let the names and smells and rhythm soak into her. The crowd wound around them in a friendly press. At intervals Sophia would glance back, half expecting to catch Tobias and Sam a few paces behind. But their places were empty; the pair were nowhere to be seen.

"You think they wandered off?" Sophia murmured.

"I’m hoping so. Maybe they’ll finally get together officially today." Ronan told her.

She gave him a nod. "I’m rooting for them too."

Ronan laughed. "You just met her."

"Yes, and I consider Tobias a friend and I want the best for him. For what it’s worth, I think Sam is into him too."

"Yeah, I think so too. But just because she’s into him doesn’t mean they’ll get together." He told her.

"Why not?" Sophia asked him with a frown and he smiles.

"That’s something you will have to figure out on your own. Now," he said as he turned his attention to the stall they were currently at.

He steered them toward the wooden target Orion had shown her in the morning, the one with the painted rings and the small diamond-shaped center. Tonight it had lights strung about its frame and a stout vendor at its side. The stall had a new display: a vertical board arrayed with prizes, carved pendants, a small leather-bound book stamped with a moon rune, a squat bottle of herb syrup, and a line of tiny wrapped packages tied with blue and silver ribbon. The vendor, a broad-shouldered man with a flour-smeared apron, watched the players, ready to hand out prizes and call the next contestant.

"This is my favorite place to start the night." Ronan announced to her. "I’ll bet five silver coins you can’t hit the diamond."

Sophia eyes glistened with the promise if the bet. "What can I get with give silver coins?" She asked him.

"A lot."

As they spoke, the few people that were around the stall paid attention, gathering to watch the match.

"You’re on." She told him with a smile.

The vendor smiled then placed a roll of daggers for them to use. Five for each person. The daggers were different from the one Orion had used that morning.

"Let’s up the ante." Ronan told her.

"Okay?"

"We only have one shot." He told her with a smile.

Sophia pondered on his words, she could reject it and decide not to do the bet but she could use the money to pay Ronan back. Even if she will win it from him.

"Okay, deal." She told him with a nod.

Ronan took a dagger and stepped forward with that easy posture that always made him look a half-second away from mischief.

He threw.

The dagger sailed, whirled, and thunked into the outer ring, a hair from the diamond. The crowd whooped. Ronan tossed a mock-aghast look over his shoulder. "Close!" he declared, theatrical. "Let’s see if you can beat that."

Sophia didn’t give him a reply. She picked a dagger and took a deep breath, remembering everything Orion taught her in the morning. His instructions felt small and perfect in her memory: thumb placement, how to let the dagger be an extension of the arm, how to breathe into the throw, not through the shoulders. It was like he was right there with her, whispering those exact words in her ear.

Time seemed to slow down and then she released the dagger.

The blade sang. It cut the air cleanly and struck, dead center. The crowd inhaled from shock and cheers went up. The vendor’s face split into a grin. Ronan whooped and slapped his thigh, genuinely impressed.

"You won." He said to her and she beamed at him.

"I did." She said with joy. "And this time I didn’t hit anybody."

Ronan frowned. "Um...have you been here before?" He asked her.

She gave him a nod. "Yes but with Orion. He taught me to shoot."

Then she extended her hand for him to place the coin.

"Bloody Orion." Ronan groaned as he placed the coins in her hand.

She counted it then with a smile placed it back in his hands. "This is for the clothes you helped me get. And for everything I owe you. It’s little and it’s basically your money but..."

Ronan laughed. "Hold on a minute. That wasn’t from my pocket."

"No?" She asked him with a frown.

"No. I took the money from Orion so you can have this and also the grand prize." He said pointing at the stall.

Sophia turns and then remembered when she first came here with Orion and how he had talked about there being no price available for her to choose from.

She turned to Ronan, "Where is Orion?"