Tertius jabbed Dael in the spine again, and he lifted his head, twisted around with a snarl - and there was a hand on his chin, tugging him around to face –
Her.
The woman from beneath the red hood, Dael was sure of it. Belatedly, he realized she, too, had been speaking his language. She had dark skin, different from the other servants in the house, different even from the master’s, and her eyes were bright, golden, and fierce, like a wolf.
“You picked well,” she said to the soldier, and then to Dael, “What’s your name?”
Tertius answered, slaughtered it.
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