“You’ve made your first enemy here,” she said, sipping her wine dramatically as she stood. “That was not a wise decision.” “You were my first enemy here, and we were set to this rivalry before I’d ever set foot on the soil of Alfheimr,” I explained, holding my head high as she took a few steps toward me. She stopped just out of reach, staring at the cut on my cheek and glancing down at my shackles.
