(Historian's note on Lora's name: Giving you name as _____ of Sandar, or whatever country you are a citizen of, means you're an orphan and/or don't know who your parents are.)
After I got dressed the next morning I asked the Innkeeper's wife to check my clothes for me. She shook her head and offered me the use of her full-length mirror.
"Thank you, that is a very generous offer."
I went into her small dressing room and immediately put my back to the wall. I had not wanted to refuse her offer but I did not really want to use a mirror either.
Curse you for a fool of a girl, Lheora Yhanni, it is only a mirror!
Finally I turned around and confronted the woman in the mirror. I note, at this point, that my illusion worked on my own eyes as well. The woman looking back at me looked nothing like me, which was, of course, the point. I quickly made sure my dress and hair covering were straight then hurried out.
"Thank you," I called the Innkeeper's wife on my way out.
I arrived at the Trade Minister's office several minutes before the eleventh hour. His secretary gestured to a chair and went into the inner office. I looked sceptically at the chair it looked like it was designed to be uncomfortable!
Maybe I shall stand.
"The Minister will see you shortly," said the secretary as he returned to his desk.
"Thank you."
The Ministers idea of shortly was fascinating. I was standing in the waiting room for at least an hour before he called his secretary to send me in.
I curtseyed politely, the man was as I had found out a Mage, and bid him good day.
I stood up and we examined each other. He was, to my surprise, a fairly young looking man - I had expected him to be older. He wore severe black robes, liberally decorated with gold chains holding precious gems. His hair was long enough to be tied back and a dark brown color and his eyes, I noticed in a brief glance, were a deep sort of green color.
I could not say what he thought of me, in my dusty shoes and outdated gown.
"Good day, Mistress Lora."
I silently bristled at the way he said my name, just because it implied I was an orphan - or perhaps because it struck closer to the truth than he might have thought.
"I trust you are well, Sir," I asked him graciously.
"Tolerably, and yourself? How are the roads at this time of the year?"
"I am well, thank you, and the roads were tolerable."
"What about the weather? There are often storms at this time of year."
"It has been very pleasant, though decidedly chilly since I arrived in the city."
"My colleague, the City Librarian, sent me a letter informing me that a young woman has been registered as someone who reads the Elven language. He neglected to mention that you were not a scholar by profession."
"No, Sir, I am a travelling musician. My patroness, and teacher in the Musical arts, taught me to read the language. In truth, I only bothered telling the Librarian about it in order to gain an interview with your good self."
"It is a great accomplishment."
"But, unless one plans to write to an elf, it is a useless skill. May I present my request to you, Sir, or do you wish further discussion upon the topic?"
"I would like to know why your teacher wasn't registered."
"I doubt she even knew it was possible, Sir."
"I see. Thank you, now what was the request you wanted to make?"
"I was hoping to gain access to the Palace Archives, for the purpose of gathering information."
Although, at that point, I would settle for getting out of there unscathed!
"For what purpose?"
"I'm hoping to find out if my mother is alive."
"Don't you think, considering your age, that is a somewhat futile hope?"
"I am thirty-two, Sir, therefore my mother would only be forty-eight. It hardly seems an unreasonable hope to me."
"I'm afraid there is a process that must be adhered to. You will need to fill out these forms and they will have to be judged by three others and myself then you will be sent a result in five to ten days."
He handed me the forms.
"You may fill those out in the waiting room."
"You are too kind, Sir."
I took the pile of parchment and curtseyed.
"Good day."
The forms were very complicated, for a human document. I made the pretence of needing a long time to fill them out but by the time I was finished there was nothing in my wording that could be twisted around.
I handed the secretary the forms and bid him good day.
When I returned to the Inn, the Innkeeper's wife asked how my meeting went.
"I do not think I accomplished much at all."
"You were lucky to get an interview so soon," she remarked, "some folk have to wait weeks."
"Well, I may have to wait weeks for a reply. If you will excuse me, I have to change my clothes and go earn my supper money."