The morning air was heavy with dampness. Dew slid slowly down the reeds and plinked softly into the water.
Hom sat by the boat, wrapped in a threadbare blanket. Half his face was buried in it, leaving only his bloodshot right eye visible as he kept glancing around.
A short chestnut-haired head circled him, while Hom kept shifting to make sure his back was always turned toward her.
A muffled voice came from inside the blanket. "Lady Healy, why do you keep staring at me?"
"Mr. Hom." Healy tilted her head, her clear eyes full of confusion. "What happened to your eye? And your voice sounds strange, too."
"N-nothing... I drank too much last night, then tripped while walking in the dark and landed face-first..." Hom pulled the blanket tighter around himself. "I hit my mouth, so I'm talking funny."
"You're hurt?"
Healy turned toward the gentlemen talking nearby. "Mr. Hughes, I think Mr. Hom is hurt. And it looks pretty bad."
"It's nothing, milady! You don't need to trouble yourself... Ow!"
Brendan and Dorick were crouched by the bank, sharpening their axes. They looked up at the commotion, and Brendan grinned. "Hom, don't tell me you were peeking at some girl bathing and got beaten up for it?"
Dorick joined in. "Looks more like some wild man gave him a pounding."
Mr. Hughes walked over to Hom and said kindly, "Here, let me have a look. I hope I can ease the pain a little."
Hom hesitated for a long time. With everyone watching him, there was no way to avoid it.
At last, he lowered the blanket, revealing a face mottled with bruises.
Healy's brow furrowed at once. "How could that have happened from a fall? Did those people you owe money to come after you?"
Hom said