Her naked body was an abomination of caked filth and sagging tubes for breasts. Or, if you must take off my clothes, don't dash cold water on my head. “You’ve no right to badger me like this, Veronica,” he said. Her eyes still had the fevered glow of sickness, yet she seemed in perfect health. ‘As for your dagger—’ She held out her hand palm up, as if she expected him to give her the weapon. In this moment he could have stamped upon the Wastrel's face, and ended the affair; but all that was clean in him, chivalrous, revolted at the thought. Unless he has killed someone.
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