“A book of fairy tales broke your nose,” she said, helpless not to smile at how wrong her first impression had been. “I supposed you were in a fight.” “More of an ambush, actually,” he said. “I was on tiptoe, trying to get it.” He touched his nose. “But it got me.” “You’re lucky it didn’t take your head off,” said Sarai, hefting it back to him. “Very lucky. I got enough grief for a broken nose. I’d never have heard the end of a lost head.” A small laugh escaped Sarai. “I don’t think you hear very much, if you lose your head.” Solemnly, he said, “I hope never to know.”
