Isobel blushed at such unabashed flattery. She was not unused to the stares of men; the Freys had leered enough, as it was, but she was terribly unused to continued flattery. Even the Freys realized she was useless after only a few moments.
"No, no dragon, milord. Only stars," she managed, trying to keep her mount reined in all the excitement and commotion of being allowed into the city. She should truly be getting back to her own retinue but, as it was, she was mildly intrigued at this dark lord with the moons and falcons.
She kept her head down in a practiced motion, peering up through her lashes to study his features and keep them to her memory. Wouldn't it be lovely to have a husband such as this? Young enough to still make things seem passionate and beautiful instead of the dreadful bore that marrying a Frey would have been.