Yenna came back out to the guild steps that afternoon with Mila and an argument the hours failed to improve.
The door behind her guarded a schedule she disliked, and the petitioner on it she disliked more than the schedule. Market traffic rolled past the bottom step while Mila picked at a honey pastry, clearly finding it friendlier than commissions.
Yenna folded her arms and glared at a cart that blocked the entrance long enough to feel personal.
"A stranger walks in with no mentor, no service record, and nobody willing to explain his discipline," she muttered, shoulder pressed to the wall, "and one recommendation hands him tomorrow's testing slot before lunch."
Mila bit into the pastry and waited for the honey to stop threatening her cuff.
"You spent the morning asking how he got that slot and the whole afternoon explaining why it should offend me," she drawled, catching a drip with her thumb.
"Maybe he unsettled something besides the filing schedule."
