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It was a mistake to try to get in so close, but Rogero couldn’t resist.
The sound of her voice and the things she said.
She reminded him so powerfully of someone—but who?
Brad, the man had called her.
Rogero searched his mind. Did he recognize that name? Or was it the woman, not the name, he remembered?
He studied her face, as much as of it as he could see in the rainy darkness. He wished he could throw a handful of moonlight or a burst of fire over her head to see her better.
Her skin looked darker than some of her fellow warriors’. A light shade of brown, almost the same color as his. She wore her long brown hair in a thick braid down the center of her back.
She was dressed the same as the men in King Carleman’s army: faded blue thigh-length tunic, shorter now that she had rip
