She rummaged in the bag until her hand touched the small cedarwood box she carried her incense in. Myril had given it to her years before, the Midwinter after they’d both moved from their guildhalls into their own quarters.
“Here,” Darna said, handing it to him. “It’s for incense. Take it.”
“Thank you, Lady Planner,” Nolerin said. “I hope that we will meet again.”
He had always kept some distance between them, physically, helping Darna onto the horse only as much as she needed, but now he embraced her with a friendly, affectionate hug. It held no trace of longing in it, a sisterly sort of hug.
“You are – I hadn’t thought of it before, but –” She’d never felt drawn to him, sexually, but it was only now that she realized he felt no desire for women.
“Never mind that,” Nolerin said. “It
