Fulren couldn’t help but grin at the sight of the thickly muscled specimen lying there in the straw and dirt, his waxed moustache all askew. The levity didn’t last long as he felt the cold edge of a rapier blade at his throat. He froze, letting his sword arm slowly drop to his side. “You’re finished, son of Hawkspur,” the woman whispered in his ear.
Called it. Books like this are so predictable. Just once, let the female character lose. I promise, it's not going to empower the patriarchy if a female character isn't perfect.
