Festival of Roses

Jynessa came to the stables in search for the most sought after man in her mind: Garvin, the stable boy. She brought Kevith along with her in case she needed any assistance.

Garvin was grooming a delicate chestnut palfrey, the spirited creature tossing its mane and prancing as he worked.

The noblewoman went to her own steed and gave it a gentle pat. "Terrible business last evening," she mused to the boy.

Seemingly startled that someone would say something to him unrelated to horses, "uh, yes milady, twas terrible indeed."

"A young lady plummeting to her death during such a festival. It puts a damper on one's mood, especially when the victim is as beautiful as she." Jyn gave her horse an awkward pat on the head before walking closer to Garvin. "Although it is peculiar that she was not dressed for bed. She must have been going to meet somebody."

Alarm registered on the boy’s face, wait, surely she’s not talking to me! She must be speaking to someone else, I didn’t hear anyone else come in, but she mustn’t mean me. “Milady?”

"She spoke often of a stable boy, one that fits your description. Could it be that she wanted to see you that evening? Tragic if that were the case."

Mother’s mercy, she is talking to me. “I hardly knew her, milady, a handmaiden like that wouldn’t mix with us dirty outside servants.”

"But she spoke so fondly of you. She must have come here often and pretended to admire the horses when she was really admiring something else entirely."

Intimidated by the presence of the Lady, and her formidable companion, “milady, she came here sometimes, but I swear I didn’t have nothing to do with her. She was a ladies’ maid, and even if I did think to look her way, I know my place. Stableboys don’t, don’t,” he struggled for the word, “consort with ladies’ maids.”