In the sallow afternoon, I watched her get dressed.

I don't have anything to give you, except to show you a way to better yourself.

No longer did she look like a shy little maid who was trained to censor her thought before it reached her mouth. These past few days had turned her into a reserved yet intelligent young woman.

Hit me again, and I'll report you to the authorities. Follow me to my bed one more time, and I swear to the gods, I'll search for the most painful way to murder you.

Your eyes have the colour of the moon,

Nothing had ever felt so young as her lips.