This series continues

Lina did not jump. Much. She turned to look at the woman who had spoken.
She was wearing a much more formal-looking — no, that was the wrong word. It was nicer looking, but also looked more like it had been cut to fit her — version of the robe that the shitty kid was wearing, hers with a crest over the chest. She had golden hair pulled into a very practical-looking ponytail and, if she was wearing make-up, it was very understated.
She looked a lot more working-class than most of the women here. She also looked a little scary.
“Ma’am?” Lina didn’t move her hands. She tried not to look threatening anyway.
“We can be here!” the guy told her. “My father is —”
Mirrored from Alder's Grove Fiction.