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the warrior where he still knelt in front of her. 'I watched you dispatch that beast from my window here, with great admiration,' she said softly. 'Such courage. Such...strength.' She placed a slender hand on his shoulder and smiled at him. He looked up at her for a moment, taking in her dark and silken hair, her complexion pale and pure like the snow outside. She had full, soft lips and deep, mysterious eyes that shone down at him in the candlelight. 'You may stand, warrior. I am not my mother. I care little for such formalities.' As the tired warrior climbed to his feet, the candle behind them guttered, as if disturbed by some sudden and sharp wind, then steadied again. The young noblewoman gazed upon him now in his full height, and seemed suddenly wrong-footed by his