“Margrave?” Some instinct, or maybe the tone in her voice, warned him to stay put and keep his back to her. “Hmm?” “You're ugly, but your hair is soft.” A gust of more laughter burst past his lips and out his nostrils. The woman wouldn't know how to deliver a compliment if her life depended on it. He wrapped the blankets more snugly about him. “Then I've found favor in your eyes with one thing.” he said. “Good night, Anhuset.”
