Seraphina looked at their joined hands—her pale, calloused fingers intertwined with his scarred, dark ones. She had dreamed of a knight in shining armor. Instead, she had been given a wolf in barbarian furs.
“Gold?” He snorted. “The southern kingdoms measure everything in gold. Land. Power. A daughter’s life.” He released the hair and stood. “We do not.” hime kishi wa banzoku no yome
Kaelen crouched, bringing his scarred face level with hers. He smelled of woodsmoke, horses, and iron. He reached out, and she flinched, expecting a blow. Instead, he took a strand of her mud-caked platinum hair and rubbed it between his fingers. Seraphina looked at their joined hands—her pale, calloused
“And you,” he murmured into her hair, “are still a princess knight.” “Gold
They fought back-to-back—her disciplined, elegant thrusts; his wild, crushing swings. When Gurik lunged for Kaelen’s exposed back, Seraphina parried the blow and ran the traitor through.