Chapter 6Nefron examined herself thoughtfully in the mirror. Her long black hair was as full as ever, and pulled back just enough to display the elegant bone structure of her face. Her complexion was unblemished and, though pale, was not pallid. A lingering touch from her long hands confirmed that her skin was as soft as it looked. She nodded in approval. Though she affected to despise such vanities, Nefron was well pleased with her appearance. It would serve her well as a weapon for some time to come yet.
In fact, she decided, her narrow, finely drawn face was in many ways more handsome than it had been those — what was it? — thirty-six years ago, when she had married Ibris.
Sixteen years old she had been then. And beautiful. But with a blandness about her, a naivety. She was a foolish
