Textiles. Stationers. A vintner. Useful things, of good quality, none too Orlesian -- and a treat. (That would be the wine.) It takes several hours, but Cullen is well satisfied. Add some caramels and crystallized fruit for the children, and that's all done.

Except for one thing. That requires a detour further into the university district.









He's out much later than he intends. He guards the little parcel under his arm very closely, even while he's drinking brandy and playing chess in a pub. No wonder people drink to forget their problems, he thinks, as he starts the walk back to their rooms in the dark.

Cullen isn't weaving, exactly, but he's meandering. Alistair might not even come back tonight. Might as well drink. It'll make it easier to fall asleep.