. . . dare to speak to me . . . BY Morrigan

Grainne’s heart jumped.  Partly because of a sudden sense of embarrassment, speaking to someone so important and, well, unconventional as if she was another ordinary, unremarkable person.  Partly because of those old, deep-seated views that she was still trying to shake.  There was something inside her that thought that magic learned outside the circles was inherently more dangerous, but when she stopped to have a good think about it, she was aware that she mainly felt that way because someone very convincing told her so.

For a moment she froze, eyes wide, but she took a deep breath to steady herself.  “Forgive me, that wasn’t what I was expecting to hear.  My background isn’t nearly as remarkable.  I was a sellsword until recently, and before that…well I grew up in the Free Marches.”  That was enough of that.  Most people never got that much detail.