Raven had never seen a handsome woman before. Most women tended to like looking pretty, wearing dresses, or dressing their faces. Yet the one before her seemed the opposite. She was cradling a young man. He seemed almost like a babe in her arms. Where he had not grown, she might have thought he was.
'Hehe! He looks funny like that!'
She hurried over to her amethyst eyes, searching the woman up and down. "You're handsome. Why?"
The question caught the woman, dignified in her manners, off guard, and she could not say why. Everyone from guards to servants seemed to gape; Some even drew weapons.
The woman lifted a palm, and the guards, all women, stilled.
"I prefer it as such, child. Why do you ask?"
Raven had to think. "You're different. I was just curious. Most women want to be pretty. But you want to be handsome."
