Toni flipped her braid out of her face and tugged the book into a bag at her side and paused with her hand on the doorknob It was raining slightly and in the background was the ominous roll of thunder meaning more rain if any. However, Toni didn’t bother to pull her hood up as she stepped outside.

A little rain never hurt anyone and it too hot for the hood or the cloak really.

Hayden hurried out from the back of the shop giving the keeper, an old friend of his, a grateful, sheepish grin. “Thanks, Calla,” he told her and sighed, making a quick move for the door and nearly bumped into a woman exiting the shop.

He checked himself just in time, not running into her, but putting the two of them in extremely close quarters with each other. He was balanced in a rather awkward position, he couldn’t take a step back with falling over and the only way to go without falling was forward but as there was someone in the way. “Terribly sorry milady.”

Toni eyes closed and her hands found the folds of her skirts and squeezed at the dark purple-black fabric of the gown. He wasn’t touching her, not yet, but it was close enough to quicken her pulse and freeze her for a moment.

Get a grip, girl, she counseled herself. She rearranged her grip on her skirts and took a few steps away from Hayden. “You should be," she snapped. She smoothed the grip wrinkles out of her skirt.

Hayden moved his foot and caught himself in a natural position. He bowed a little at Toni. “Like I said, milady, terribly sorry.”

Toni sighed and looked at Hayden. Her eyes roved over Hayden and a slight frown pulled at Toni’s mouth. “Do I know you? You look familiar.” She riffled through her mind trying to place his face.

At Marmist, last year. He’d come to see her mother. He’d shown up late in the evening and she could remember bringing him stew and a loaf of bread up to his room.

She struggled to remember his name.

Hayden blinked and squinted at her. He looked like someone he knew had she been about twenty-five years younger, but she looked like herself in her own right.

He frowned a little. “I believe we might have.” Again he mused a little. “You’re General’s daughter, Sir Antoinette.” He guessed. He had only seen her for about a moment and he’d been drop tired.