Teraj went into the kitchen part of the house, and I heard the sound of washing again. He brought me a bowl of warm water and a towel, and I, too, washed. I watched as he set a small meal of bread and cheese on the table, and a bowl of sliced fresh vegetables. He put two plates and two knives on the table. The plates were rough pottery, and I guessed he had made them himself. But the knives had handles of silver, and were ornate. He poured two chalices of wine, and offered one to me I hesitated. It was a bone and silver chalice, highly valuable and obviously his own.

“I have my own drinking cup, lord, in a travelling bag,” I said. “I’ll get it, if you wish.”

He smiled, and still held out the chalice. “Why, Elsha? Is my best cup not good enough?”

I blushed, and looked away. “I thought that you, being Chosen, would not share your drinking vessels with a Quelled.”

“I see no Quelled,” he said.

I looked at his face and saw that his lips were curved, though his eyes were very grave. So blue, his eyes. I took the cup and looked away again.

He went over to the table, drew out two chairs, and invited me to sit with him. I did, though it felt strange sitting on a Chosen chair at a Chosen table, to wait while the man ate. I sipped my wine, and did not look at his face. He picked up a small crusty loaf of bread, and broke it.

“You surprise me, Elsha,” he murmured, beginning to eat. “I had heard that you were all arrogance and fire, and that you called men by their names, straight, like their equal. Yet you call me lord, and you won’t meet my eyes.” There was warmth in his voice, bordering on laughter, rich and enveloping.

So I looked at him over my chalice, while I drank. The wine was warm and smooth, and soothed my heart. In the dimness, he looked kingly, his nose straight and hooked, like the Firelord’s, his brow high and clear, his skin glowing and bronze. His mouth was well-formed, expressive and strong, and his eyes … his eyes had blue fire in them. His long, curling hair and full beard were dark, with lights like tawny wine. His face was striking, yet had serenity. He had that air of self-command that the Firelord had: detachment mixed with warmth, peace with compassion.