No

She took your coat snuggling into the warmness. You let her walk out first like a gentleman. Her feet having small sores and bumps.

"Are your feet hurting Yara?" You said.

She nod. Her small feet standing on the burning stone pavement. The eating haul a few yards over still bustling with the joy of the men and women. The walk to the main castle would be hard for her you thought.

You peel off your handcrafted boots and regular socks. You hand them over.

"I don't want your feet to be amputated because of this disease ground. An infection could be your downfall more than a sword in this day and age." You said.