Sandro relaxed into his seat. They had many days at sea yet, she would recover, and he would decide whether to keep her or give her freedom to be rid of her... or give her to the keeping of someone else.
"We shall have to remedy that. If I'm to have a scribe whilst I stay at the Red Keep, she'll need to know more than letters to keep herself alive. The place has this unsettling habit of playing host to death. It makes the Sealord's palace look safe... and now there may be an infestation of harpies in the absence of dragons... and here I'd thought it was just wolves. It's near enough to drive a man to drink." So he took another glass.
"You may rest if you like, Sindra. Take my bed for now- I'll not be needing it for some hours." He looked down at the wine in his glass. Harpies were not a creature he wanted anywhere near his neice. What the hell was his nephew thinking- time the little one was married and safely away from whatever court games she'd gotten caught in. "Else we will soon slide into discussions of families and politics and you look tired enough to begin with."