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curtsy.  When she rose, she stretched out a hand to him.  “I’m honored to meet you, Lord de Sauveterre,” she said, voice lyrical and sweet. “Your son has told me much about you and your home.”
    “Has he?”  A bubble of bitter laughter swelled in his throat.  Beauty at its most sublime resided at Ketach Tor now, alongside hideousness at its most wretched.  The irony nearly choked him.  He didn’t take her hand but let his cloak fall back to reveal his hands.  She inhaled sharply and shrank back.  Gavin captured her fingers in his grasp and scowled at his father.
    Ballard shrugged.  Beautiful Cinnia Hallis might be, but if Gavin had any mind to keep her here for more than an hour or two, she’d have to grow a spine and deal with his appearance.  He’d wear the cloak but had no intention of hiding in the buttery the length of her stay so he didn’t offend her delicate sensibilities.  “How long are you staying, Mistress Hallis?”
    “Father, a word please.  Ambrose as well.”  Gavin kissed the back of Cinnia’s hand before pushing her gently toward Magda.  “Go to the kitchens with Magda, my love.  You’ve had a long journey.  She’ll take care of you.”
    Magda placed a hand on the girl’s shoulder.  “Come with me, my girl.  Let’s get you fed.  Men forget these things until their own bellies are gnawing at their backbones.”  She ushered Cinnia out of the hall with Clarimond and Joan following behind them.
    Ballard crossed his arms and eyed his son.  “Exactly how much did you tell her?  She almost leapt out of her skin when she saw my hands.”
    “I told her as much as I could without breaking the curse’s strictures.”  Gavin cocked an eyebrow.  “You can’t deny you’re still a startling sight.”
    Ballard conceded the point.  “Who is de Sauveterre?”
    “You are.”  At Ballard’s questioning look, Gavin shrugged.  “Ketach Tor is too specific.  Sauveterre could be any place, and it’s common enough among the southern provinces as is the name Lovet.”
    Ballard chuckled.  “I doubt there’s anything common about a ‘safe land.’  In fact, you’d be lucky to find such a place in the world.”  He tipped his chin toward the kitchen.  “I thought the fruit of this trip was to be more books for Ambrose or another cask of wine.  That isn’t a book or a cask.”
    Gavin looked sheepish.  “I heard rumors that the Monteblanco markets carried rare grimoires.  I stopped to have a look, maybe bring something back for Ambrose.  I saw Cinnia at the market one morning.  She’s a bookbinder.”  He cleared his throat, obviously abashed at how quickly he’d fallen to her charms.
    “I’ve never beheld a more beautiful girl,” Ambrose said in a reverent voice.
    Gavin’s moonstruck expression mirrored Ambrose’s sentiment.  “She is.  And kind as she is beautiful.  I’ve been in Monteblanco for three months now, courting her and working as a swordsmith at the town’s principal smithy.”
    “Courtship?”  Ballard slid a glance to Ambrose who met it with a sly one of his own.  Gavin had known many women during his travels and kept several as mistresses, but he’d never pursued a formal courtship nor lingered in one place for too long.  And he had never before brought one of those women to Ketach Tor.  This was serious.  If the sorcerer’s suppositions regarding the curse and how to break it were correct, then a union based on love between Gavin and his chosen bride might save both father and son.  Ballard refused to ignite that small fire of hope and concentrated on the fact that Gavin brought the girl home instead of marrying her in her village.  “Why did you bring her into these isolated wilds?  I find it hard to believe Ketach Tor is a more hospitable place than her own town, especially in winter.”
    Gavin ran a hand over his eyes, and for the first time since his arrival, Ballard noted the exhaustion in his face, the unkempt