Even under the dimmed light, her skin was tanned, her eyes were thin as daggers, and her nose was as pointy as her stares, and she smelled like Sas Koron only lesser—much lesser.
"You're an elf," Ned said as he held his breath while the dagger touches the skin under his neck.
"Careful, child," the elf said, lips shaking. Unable to hide the trembling of her lips, she bit them instead. "You're only alive because I wanted to."
"Let me see your face." He then turned around, not bothered by the dagger on his neck.
Her eyes were shaking as though Ned was one step away from being gutted as well as her body under the light coming from the torches behind them. Ned wondered what made her so angry?
Now that Ned was closer at the elf, he realized what the reason was: shackle on her neck barely visible under the fine thread of her blonde hair.
"I won't hurt you, elf—"
