Life goes on much like it did before. She takes extra care, in the days after the messenger arrives, to be certain she never trips up and says Asmodeus's name in her evening prayers when she means Iomedae. (Morning prayers for Erastil and evening for Asmodeus, that's the way her parents taught her, and Pharasma when you bear a child or bury one, and other gods if you really need them, but they don't like to be bothered for trivial things.)

Her oldest is nearly sixteen now. She's hoping he'll settle down with one of the Serra girls, but right now he seems more interested in the miller's daughter. Her three other children are growing up fast, and there's always plenty of work to do. In two months she's nearly forgotten about the messenger entirely.

Naima is using an illusion to tone down the sunburst-colored robes and clearly-taken-from-an-ancient-Osirian-tomb jewelry that she's wearing into something slightly more subdued. Collecting people in Cheliax is depressing enough without your clothes screaming I AM GOING TO MURDER YOU as soon as you appear.

She teleports in from a scry, still studying the page of school attendance records on which the name appears. 

"I am looking for Taís Espaillat, is that you?"

She drops her water pail and tries to run.

Naima sighs heavily. This is really on her. She has not yet figured out how to make this not happen.

She flies. It's... really not hard at all to keep up with a running person while flying. She's going to just ignore the running behavior and see if she can resolve this without direct use of hostile magic just yet.

"Taís Espaillat, you have been selected by lot to represent the Chelish people at the Constitutional Convention in Westcrown, which will determine the powers of the new Chelish government."

She stops running when it's clear it isn't helping. Probably running was a stupid idea. If the scary wizard didn't want to kill her before she definitely wants to now.

Is it safe to point out that she hasn't actually drawn any lots? ...No, obviously not. That's the sort of thing that gets you turned into a gnat for your disrespect.

She stands very still and stares at the ground and doesn't say anything.

Naima touches down on the ground nearby.

"I'm very sorry about this, but the convention will only be for a few weeks. Months, at most. You will be transported safely by me, and given accomodations in Westcrown. Your identity will be hidden from the other delegates, if that's what you want. You will be paid for the work involved. If you have family here who will be inconvenienced by your absence, they will be paid as well. For the next hour, my job is to deal with any other inconveniences your absence will cause, and to make this process as painless as possible."

That all sounds incredibly fake. 

"Yes, ma'am."

Well, that's probably as good as she's going to get.

"You should inform anyone who needs to be informed of your absence. You should pack whatever you'll need to take with you. If there's anyone who relies on you here, you should determine who, if anyone, ought to come with you to Westcrown. If any of your family members or animals are sick or missing body parts, I can heal them as a courtesy."

"Yes, ma'am."

...She is definitely not bringing anyone else to Westcrown. Bad enough that she's probably going to die.

She heads back to her house. She's not planning on packing much of anything, but she wants her family to know what happened.

Naima waits outside and reads her book, at least for the first few minutes. The family can be afforded some privacy. It's not as though she's going to permanently lose track of who she's here for.

If this house had a back door she'd try to sneak out that way, but it doesn't.

She's not making particular effort to be quiet; depending on how aggressively Naima is focusing on her book, she may or may not catch part of the conversation.

"—don't see why it has to be us. We haven't broken any of their laws, we haven't done anything to provoke them—"

"I don't understand it either! But I tried to run away already. She's a wizard, and a pretty strong one from the look of it."

"I'm not saying fight her, I'm saying— I don't know."

"Mama, mama, don't go..."

"Quiet, Carles."

"But Mama—"

There's the sound of flesh striking flesh.

"I said, quiet. Papa and I are talking. Now listen, Emeric won't admit it but he has his eye on Dalila..."

She goes on like that for some time. Eventually she exits the house, wearing a single outfit (she seems to have shed some of her clothing since Naima's arrival) and carrying a waterskin and nothing else.

"Not packing?" asks Naima, closing the book.

"...Anything I bring my family won't be able to use. Ma'am."

"As you wish," sighs Naima. Then she does enter the house herself.

"Who here takes responsibility for the children in this household?"

A man looks up. "I do, ma'am."

Naima counts out thirty gold coins and hands them to him. "I do not have time to assess Taís's financial contribution to this household. Whatever financial hardship the loss of her causes you, consider this my attempt to make up for it. She will return by the end of the summer. Does anyone here need healing, while I'm here?"

It's sort of weird that she's going to all this effort to pretend. Maybe it's illusion-gold, and it'll disappear when she leaves? But he's not going to insult her by suggesting as much, that's just asking for trouble.

"No, ma'am, we're all in good health."

"Very well," says Naima, and almost leaves. Then she sighs, stops, and heals Carles with a pat to the head. Then she leaves.

"Last call for anything you've forgotten," she tells Taís.

Oh no, is this the kind of wizard that read minds. Well, too late now, if so.

"I'm ready, ma'am."

"Then away we go," she murmurs, reaching out to take Taís's hand. A moment later they're in Westcrown.