‘Who?’ she pressed him earnestly. He held it out to her and she took it back again. She shook her hair from her eyes, and then set the rooster crown on her head again. ‘Someone like me?’ she asked hopefully. ‘Oh,’ he paused, striving to recall her. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, shaking his head at last. ‘She wasn’t an Elderling. That’s all I can recollect of her.’ The woman who wore it had been pale as milk. Not like Amber at all.
