Hours had passed by the time Jocelynn emerged from the lower decks of Caun's Light, carrying two cloth-wrapped bundles and two steaming tankards.
She'd known the luxurious ship was making a swift passage by the feel of its movements, but she was still taken aback by the speed at which she saw the snow-covered countryside rolling by when she reached the ship's deck.
The wind was cold and fierce, and her fur-trimmed cloak fluttered around her calves and ankles like a banner begging to be unfurled as she climbed the short steps to the aftercastle where Albyn stood at the ship's wheel.
"You shouldn't be up here, my Lady," Albyn said quickly, slipping a loop of rope around one of the wheel's pegs as he rushed forward to take one of the warm cloth bundles from her hands along with a tankard of hot, steaming ale. "I can take the rest to Sir Ollie," he offered as he set his own portion down on a small table next to the wheel. "You should stay below until we reach Maeril."
