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Rinaldo felt a great unease as he escorted Michaela through the streets of Abincort.
She was so beautiful, so stunning in her strange and exotic costume, her hair a dark red cloud around her head and covering her back, Rinaldo worried that at any moment someone would try to snatch Michaela away and try to claim her as their own.
It was like carrying precious jewels or fistfuls of gold in his open hands, out where anyone could see.
And at the same time Rinaldo felt a great need to protect Michaela from anyone in the world who might try to do her harm.
She had hidden at least part of her beauty by tying a dirty rag across her face. It looked as though it had been dipped in the ashes of Jara’s fire. Flecks of it soiled the otherwise pristine white of Michaela’s clothes.
She had said
