Waiting patiently while the two scampered up and down the stairs with pails of water, Rezkin began unloading his pack. He piled his dirty clothes next to the door and pulled out his comb and shaving kit, setting them next to the tub. After several long minutes, the tub was sufficiently filled, and the maid turned to him and curtsied. Her face turned pink again as she almost whispered, “Sir, if you leave your laundry outside the door, I’ll see that it’s cleaned.”

Rezkin bowed slightly to the young woman and gave her his best court smile as he said, “Thank you, Mistress Roxiella. I will do as you say.”

Her pink cheeks turned a darker shade of red, and her lips broke into a giddy smile of her own. She nearly ran from the room. From the doorway came a sudden burst of laughter. Pot grinned back at him.

“She likes you,” he said before scurrying off to his own chores.

She liked him? When men’s faces turned red, it usually meant they were angry. Then again, he vaguely remembered a lesson on human behavior in which his master told him that men sometimes turned red if they were embarrassed. Was the young woman embarrassed? Why would she be embarrassed to like him? And how could she know if she liked him when they had not even interacted or tested their Skills against each other.

Rezkin had always felt it was much easier to gauge a man’s worth after he had sparred with him. This had been his first interaction with a woman who was not a target of his blade, and if she had gone away liking him, then he must have succeeded somewhere. It seemed that women needed a better smile and a softer voice to make them feel comfortable. He would have to remember that in the future.