Fenrir’s POV
I watched her grin up at me like a woman who had just found some rare kind of jewel. It was precious.
“It comes without my knowing,” she said alas and continued eating. I liked the way she ate. She took her time. Elinor did. She ate as though she was trying to taste every flavour, as though she was trying to enjoy the food.
“Your bravery?” I asked, leaning backward, enjoying her presence, but trying not to let her see it. Some things, I believed, she was better off not knowing.
She nodded, “Yes.” Then I looked back and realized what I did and wondered what made me act that way.” She bit her lower lip and watched me. I supposed she did that, the lip biting when she was caught up in nerves.
I nodded. “Courage, when we mean to be courageous and when we don’t mean to be, is a beautiful thing, a remarkable thing. And highly commendable. It is safe to say you wear the robe of courage well, Elinor.” She brightened up at my words, and I found myself smiling at her.
