Silver Creek Not a woman's job

oh, she might be a slut, but cyclone plays this game well. addison cannot help the slight curl of one corner of her mouth before returning her face to neutrality, taking time to let the words bloom in her head before she picks which ones to give the woman. of course, the odolf sister says, her voice tinged with a kind of sweetness. some are closer than others, though. it is to their benefit that they know my brother well.

addison turns her gaze, a sudden shock of white, upon cyclone, her expression growing a little warmer. how are you settling in? she murmurs. it is a lot of change to get used to. she draws from the heart, now; she is not a wanderer at heart, and does not know the state of the blackthorn girl. perhaps she is more suited to it than addison--more by which her rival can hold over her head, she supposes sourly.

still. . .if she is to be a sister-in-law to this harlot--if the prospect is inevitable--she must at least attempt to befriend her in some way. even civility would do.