<div class="floatleft">(https://i.imgur.com/xXg2Hbn.jpg?1)</div><br/>Desdemona giggled as Miriel sang her own verse. She had sung her entire life while on errand, and few had ever bothered to listen, let alone join in. But her face turned dark as the half-elf drew back the hood of her cloak and asked about the Applebarrel.<br/><br/>People pushed past them in the crowd, Desdemona looking nervously about. The young half-elf before her looked so young and innocent, and how naïve she must be to not know about the Applebarrel. Desdemona reached out and took Miriel by the hand, pulling her off the main road into an alleyway where the sides of two tall buildings rose up over the thin strip of cobblestone, their eaves hanging over the pair, shading the two women in dark blue morning shadow. Puddles of water had formed on the uneven alleyway’s cobblestones, the ground bowed and uneven.<br/><br/>Desdemona leaned in and lowered her voice. “Miss, I don’t know why you want to go to that place—and it’s none of my busines, I don’t want to know!—but it is a dangerous place. Everyone in Cheapside knows to steer clear. Those people are not to be trusted.” Desdemona tucked a strand of her own blonde hair behind her ear and studied her, her big eyes batting at Miriel. Her clothes were not of the Brightgarden style and they were too clean and too nice to be owned by a Cheapsider. “Whatever you wanted from them, you should forget about it. Go back where you came from. Don’t get involved with them. Leave and don’t—”<br/><br/>“Desdemona?” came the sound of a sweet call from the wayroad. A short human woman, aging gracefully into the twilight of her years, poked her head into the alleyway. She jerked her head, beckoning Desdemona to follow. “Come along dear,” she said, her voice frail and delicate. She was also carrying a small pail of flowers, hers yellow and gold coloured.<br/><br/>Desdemona made a face, pursing her lips together as she turned her head between Miriel and the short older woman, the tresses of Desdemona’s long hair sweeping behind her as her head moved. She feared what would happen to this young woman if she went to the Applebarrel. But what would happen to Desdemona if<em>they</em>found out she was interfering in their business? Whatever reason this woman had for going there, it was none of Desdemona’s business. Her mother had told her so many times not to involve herself in the affairs of others; a lesson she was learning the hard way in her life.<br/><br/>She shuddered and stepped backwards away from Miriel, her stomach heavy as she made her way towards the short old woman.<br/><br/>“Be careful … and don’t trust them,“ Desdemona whispered, her voice barely audible to all but Miriel.<br/>