Her hands rested on the dagger a long time when she set it down. Finally she took off her belt and sheathed the blade before replacing it on the table. She seemed more content once the gleam of it was hidden, as though she could not be easy if it sat out in the open for all to see.

Now all that was left were the blades on her forearms. Perfectly fitted to her, small and wicked, designed with lethal efficiency. She ran her fingers lightly over the row on her right arm, touching the blunt end where an E was stamped on each one.

She laid a finger on the first blade in the row. “Lady Eluned tried to keep that lustful lord from me, and she did for a few days.” Again that look of reverence that now he recognized as the deepest gratitude he had ever seen. She continued talking, touching a blade with each deed, counting them off, and she spoke Lady Eluned’s name each time like it was a sacred word.

“When he captured me and killed Oliver, Lady Eluned gained my freedom. When I was swallowed up in fear, Lady Eluned taught me to speak of it, so I did not spend my life in shrinking. One of the knights in her hall got hold of me, and Lady Eluned stopped him.” She moved to the row of blades on her left arm. “Lady Eluned sent me to Morency, so I might learn defense. She gave me Gwenllian, and Robin, and...everything.” Nan closed her eyes and whispered the words like a long-practiced prayer. “Again and again, I am saved by good women. I will not forget their names, and I ask God and his saints to remember them.”

Her eyes opened. He watched as she released the buckles on the arm braces and set them down carefully beside the lamp. They looked together at the pile of weapons on the table.

“Do you see now?” she asked softly. “I’ve spent my life in fighting against being made a whore, and worse. My fate was to be beaten and used, weak and wretched and lowly, and that’s what I would be if not for others who took pity on me. I’m not more than what I was born to, as you say. It’s only that I had them.”

He looked at her, and then at the table laden with her many defenses. Everything in him rejected her words. He could not deny it was true that only chance had raised her above her birth.  But there was more to her than chance, just as there was more beauty within her than there was without.