The Vaalstran slid her bloody Kenran blade back into its sheath as the corpse slid to the ground, coming to rest at a lopsided angle against the brick wall, in an alley in the common area of Dandor. Smirking, she stepped over it and made her way across the cobbled street to the tavern. The fool deserved to die, she told herself, disgusted by any man who touched her like that.

Although she gave her favors away freely, she was very selective. Only one man was allowed such freedom with her body, she thought, growing heated even as she recalled memories of her lovemaking with the famous Altair. No man...