Kyra wondered if she looked cold. Her hands felt icy even to her. Oswald and Osmund were somewhere about... Selester too. Probably that idiot goodsister of hers. But she couldn't tell if Gareth was and she didn't dare look for him. Instead she waited as the Hand spoke and kept her eyes locked on his. "I did not, my lord," she said with her head held high, her voice steady and cool as the northern winds.