Ketinar came forward to greet him. She was a dark red, having survived three well-spaced clutches, and though her headdress bore sparkling citrines and garnets, proving her a lady in the forefront of fashion, nobody would have called her beautiful. Her face had an animation that made beauty irrelevant. Her eyes may have been too close to her snout, but they sparkled more than the jewels nodding among the lace on her forehead.
