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Ledwyn snapped to attention, returning to the more recent memories of the Elven herb floating in the bucket of water, at the mention of Theolain. The dread, lulled by the work, conversation, and recollection, came back with full force.
"His hand was not badly burned, and it is healing fine," she asserted, nervously and quickly - almost too quickly - as if she wanted most of all to convince Lady Saeryn (or herself) that it was true, before the meaning of the question sunk in. "Wait," Ledwyn started again, understanding creeping up to her, "you say Theolain is not here?"
Glancing around, she verified what she feared. The lad was nowhere in sight.
"He must have left the kitchen while we were busy," Ledwyn said, beginning to despair. Was there not work enough to do already, without having to go searching for Theolain and constantly keeping an eye on him? And it was not even past noon! Ledwyn needed to face so much more this day, and each new step made her wearier. "He could have gone anywhere," she moaned, passing a hand over her brow.
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