"How?" she repeats as he stands near, as the lingering warmth of his lips lingers on hers, and she cannot help but smile a bit in response to him. She lets the necklace fall back against his chest and settles her hand, instead, in the fall of her hair over her shoulder, drawing her fingers through the strands.

"I would first be inclined to grant you a gift, in melda," she says and loops one strand around her finger as she speaks. "One hair, a boon I have granted to few others--and for proof, for evidence of your heart, I would ask you weave and wear it, if you are inclined?"