She sat in the chair offered and did her best to wipe her grin off her face. It felt too good to be back, almost as if there had been no time away but grin’s weren’t professional. They did not convey the dour mercenary demeanor she knew she had to convey to command the pay she needed for this job. It was hard to keep one off though and inevitably as she sat down her face was lit up by a smile that transformed her face. But for the new set of scars and the people missing in her life, it felt very like she’d never left as she sat in the dim warmth of the Locust. 

Martin knew his work and just the right level of music came from his lute, his voice was low enough to talk over and talented enough that one found one self leaning forward to hear more. He was singing a ballad just then, some love-sick drivel that Katherine would admit she loved only when deep in her cups. As he sang he looked to Florie who was making a point of ignoring him as she fetched a basket full of bread and a small crock of what Katherine knew to be sweet butter. Her mouth salivated as she watched the fleshy woman make her way across the room, through a field of pinches and swats.

Katherine looked back to her possible client at his mention of ordering and nodded. 

“Yes, ordering first. Seems like a plan. The stew is incredible but if she has her meat pies or a ham, get one of those. Then we’ll talk.” 

She looked up to gauge Florie’s progess and found the woman thumping a patron on the head with the crock, thankfully none of the bread was lost in the scuffle. 

“Avantshire?” she mused aloud, her smile dimmed as she propped her chin on her palm and looked at him. “I’ve never been there but I have been to Graston which is but thirty miles north, I’m familiar enough with the area though clearly not an expert.”

Florie’s impressive shadow fell on the table and she put the basket of bread down. Katherine was too hungry to be truly polite and she was stuffing bread in her mouth and gesturing from Florie to Alexander, indicating that she should take his order first. 

Florie for her part rolled her eyes and looked the ink-stained scribe, her eyes taking in the stains as well as the quality of cloth with the same shrewdness that Kat had. 

“Welcome to the Locust, I’m Florie what can I get ya?” she asked. And then holding up a sweetly pudgy, dimpled hand she began to tick off items. “We have beef stew with field mushrooms and barley. We have some roast chickens left with mash, a glazed ham and creamed trout with citron.”