Ed listened to the gentle patter of Sofie's feet on the carpet as she set about unpacking her things. Her steps were careful, measured, like those of a court lady in the Imperial dance hall. The quiet grace of her movements entranced his ears, and even with his eyes closed, he could tell she was beautiful.

What could have made such a lovely woman so fearful?

He'd been reluctant to think about it, but there was no mistaking her pale skin and golden hair. She lacked the stocky build or shaded complexion of his kin. It was still possible she was Crescent-born, but it was more likely she was an immigrant. The Zeranians were known for their delicate beauty, and she would have fit right in with them, but theirs was a generally peaceful (if decadent) society. There would be no call for such wariness as Sofie exhibited. The only other nation who could have produced such a person was the one place no human should ever have to call home.

Ed opened his eyes and looked up at her. His heart squeezed in pain at the idea that anyone could ever think to harm her. Who could raise a hand to her soft, delicate cheek? This was a girl who, just moments ago, cried because she almost stabbed someone who did her no harm. What monster would hurl abuse at such a purehearted girl? Whatever darkness lay in her heart, Ed was sure it was through no fault of her own. Whoever made her life hell would pay. He would make sure of it.

But first, he had to get to know her better.

"Do your parents still run that bakery?" he asked quietly. If his guess at her origin was accurate, there was no guarantee that her parents were still alive. His question would draw that out.