Nyrielle's midnight blue eyes searched hers for a long moment, and then the tension in her expression eased by a fraction.
"I can teach you what I know," Nyrielle said. "I've never confronted Loman directly, but I've talked to others who have. Everything I've heard from Lord Jalal and High Lord Dirar's men suggests that Owain fights in the style of his great uncle, Caleb, and I've tested Caleb's might myself in order to break his blade."
"Owain didn't just admire Caleb," Ashlynn said as one hand hovered briefly over her abdomen. "I think he was as close to a hero as Owain ever had. Enough that, if we'd ever had children, Owain wanted to name our eldest son after him."
"Hmmpf," Nyrielle snorted, taking Ashlynn's hand in both of her own. "Just as well you escaped that fate. The last thing the world needs is more Lothian Lords. The last one is being troublesome enough during his stay in the Vale," she said with a sigh.
