Genovefa

“Breccan, are you even listening to me?”
He wasn’t, of course. His younger half-sister followed after him with a frown on her expressive face. She was just a bit shorter than him with dark red hair she kept tied back in a braid.
“Genovefa, I heard you the first time you said you don’t trust her. And I said she’s not a threat. She’s lost, hurt, and starving. Do you really think I can turn her away? Is that hospitality?”
“One of these days, hospitality is going to get you killed, Brec.”
“I don’t think so.”
When they got back to the house, the woman they’d been discussing was sitting on the floor with her red cloak wrapped around her shoulders. She looked up, fear in her eyes but her jaw clenched with determination. Breccan just smiled and spoke in his accented Latin.
“I brought dinner. Are you hungry?”

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