It’s Mak. Of course, with my luck, it would be him.
Mak is the warrior who has been assigned to protect me. I almost fainted—ok, not really, I mean, I am almost seventy years old, well past the age of fainting!—when he showed up at the door an hour before I was scheduled to go to work. There had been a warrior assigned to watch our house while we slept, but I didn’t see him.
Mak was going to be with me all day and all through my classes before passing me off to the night guard each evening.
Kellis told me he volunteered. Actually asked to do it. Well, he demanded to do it, actually.
I’m not sure what I think about that.
He’s easy to talk to. I’m starting to relax around him.
Mostly, he just sits in the waiting area of Theo’s office and reads. He told me he’s taking classes right now as a gift to himself because he’s curious about things.
Curious about things.
I can relate to that.
He’s some high-level guard with the warriors that patrol inside city limits. Humans call them a police force, so that’s what we do, too.
We all know it’s about hiding from the humans in plain sight, after all.
Intellectually, I can understand why. There are just so many humans everywhere.
If I had my way—and unlimited money and time and no real responsibilities—I’d do nothing but take classes and stay at the library. Just absorbing everything I can find. Or I’d spend my time at the wheel, throwing the most beautiful pots I possibly could. I’d only leave to attend dance classes twice a week.
Instead, in my spare time around classes and work, I throw my pots. Eventually, I hope they will sell. The Woald name will help with that, I think.
Woalds have always been synonymous with plants, after all. Plants need pots. Everyone knows that.