The swordsman hesitated.
Adria’s hood had fallen aside, her face now lit and her blond braid loose upon the snow. Mateko took a step forward, into moonlight and nearly in striking distance.
“Wateko-io hethhosu bowe-hiyo.” Adria urged, stilling Mateko. His life will go on.
The soldier frowned at the foreign words, so Adria followed quickly in Aeman.
“Do not speak,” she commanded — words and tone she had not adopted in some time.
The soldier blinked, and breathed loud, sword still raised and fight still strong in him, but said nothing. Adria breathed a moment in silence and moonlight, and the man’s eyes widened.
“You know me…” she frowned.