Wheeling Gull Isle a fájdalom a harag

erzsébet drew in her breath as the other woman touched her, fighting back the sting of tears that accompanied the lightest brush across her lacerated flesh. but she did not speak. away the woman went again, speaking about a flower, and it was then that the countess allowed herself a single sob, at all of it.

when the seawench presumably returned with the bloom of which she had spoken, erzsébet turned and looked for the first time on the woman who had sought to mend her wounds without question. "what is your name? how did you  learn this healing?" she asked quietly in her heavy accent.