Master of Crows (Master of Crows, #1)

by Grace Draven

“Good. Brew several and bring them outside to where Gurn will set up for lunch.” His eyes narrowed. “What do you know of Kurmanji customs?” Ah, the identity of their visitors. “A little. Asher’s cook was a Kurman woman.” She ticked off items on her fingers. “Don’t eat with the left hand; be sure to touch your heart when you thank someone, and if you’re a woman don’t meet a man’s gaze directly unless you want him to know you’re interested.” He arched an eyebrow. “Good. You’re familiar with the important things. Especially the last. These men who visit know the ways of the plains and coastal folk are different from theirs. But I’d rather be cautious. I don’t fancy another fight just to prove you’re mine. And unlike your Balian, Kurmans are very good with their daggers.” He left her in the kitchen, and she watched him go, stunned and warmed by his comment. “You’re mine.” He might only mean it in the sense she was a servant of his household, and he wouldn’t give her up to an amorous tribesman. Nor did she think any challenge would be issued. She wasn’t Anya. Still, she clung to the hope his possessive statement was more primal than practical. Martise chastised herself for entertaining such thoughts. Whatever he meant, it mattered little.