He reached out a mailed hand and threw back the hood of Siri’s cloak.
Siri was not surprised to hear his gasp. She had seen too many men stand stunned by her unexpected beauty. Their flattery she knew by heart: her glowing locks rivaled the liquid sheen of purest gold, her eyes dazzled like the sky on a midsummer’s day, her cheeks bloomed with the blush of spring roses…
For all this and its accompanying effect she was prepared.
But she was not prepared for his companions’ startled oaths, or the signs of the cross sketched hastily across mailed breasts.
“But it is she!”
“My lord, it cannot be—“
“Silence!” their leader snapped, and Siri caught an impatient amber flash from behind the eye-slits of his helmet.