‘You … shot me.’ “‘Not well enough, apparently.’ “‘It hurt. A very great deal.’ She dug the claw in, lifting my chin and staring into my eyes. ‘Merci, Monsieur de León.’ “‘That’s Chevalier de León to you. I s-suppose that’s why you’ve got me stashed under a nunnery, instead of taking m-me up to the keep? The local capitaine might not appreciate you baby-killing bitches torturing a Sword of the Realm.’
