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“As she placed the stack near the other clothing, she glanced over her shoulder to see Brynn fiddling with the end of her braid. "Rhiannon, I don't mean to pry, but would you like some help with your hair?" Rhiannon sent her a wry, half smile. "It's that noticeable, is it?" "Well," Brynn paused, dipping her chin as she shoved her hands in her pockets, "not really... mostly." "I'm hopeless, you can say it," Rhiannon laughed. "Yes, please, I would appreciate any help you can give. My handmaidens always took care of such things and I never had any sense to learn to do it myself.”

“Goodnight," he awkwardly told her. She didn't respond. Her eyes opened and she looked intently out the dark window as he turned to the door where Dai waited. "Are you going to kill me?" she asked softly. Conor grimaced; of course she had overheard their conversation. He kept his back to her, resting a hand on the door. Every time he entertained the thought, he went back to the conversation with Idris before the older man had left for Vara. Idris had ardently argued that if he could win the loyalty of his daughter, it would be certain to change the tide of the war. Conor glanced back at her, noticing the fear in her blue eyes--- eyes that reminded him of Idris. "No," he quietly said before exiting the room, the door banging shut behind him.”