“Do you prefer red or white?” “Say again?” Renna said. Franq smiled. “Wine, child. What kind would you like?” “There’s more than one kind?” Renna asked, and she felt her face color as Jasin, Arther, and Franq laughed. “What’d I say?” she murmured to Arlen under her breath. Arlen looked ready to spit fire. “Nothing,” he said, making no effort to keep his voice low. “They’re being rude, looking down over their fancy food and drink while folk a mile from here are eating weeds and thanking the Creator they have that much.”
