Chapter twenty
CsitraNow that Csitra the Witch of Loh considered she had at last won outright, she was prepared to be all condescending graciousness.
She glowed with health and vitality. Her appearance was probably what she really looked like. Her hair, for example, was no longer jetty black, but the flaming red of the true Lohvian. Her face, hawkish, resolute, possessed that fragile off-center lack of perfect beauty that is the hallmark of pure beauty. She wore not a single gem, not a single adornment. The slippers that showed the tips of toes beneath the white dress glinted gold. That was the sum total of show.
Her arms were bare. The white dress was cut deeply to her navel. No diamond glittered there and I did not expect to see one.
She lifted those bare white arms and said simply:
