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Kiera wished Daenora would cease hiding herself away so. She feared to be seen. It wasn’t like she didn’t know why. Every time Daenora flinched or cowered, the shadow of unlamented Aerion stood large in Kiera’s vision. She hadn’t really known Daenora before her marriage, so she couldn’t speak to if the other woman had already had a quiet nature, but he was certainly to blame for her fear. Sometimes Daenora would speak of some unremarkable thing she hated herself for, and she need say only “he said” for Kiera to know whose fault it was. She didn’t care what he thought. Why should anyone give any weight to the opinions of a man both cruel and dead? She thought that Daenora was incredible. She wanted to see, and love, all of her. She could hardly voice the feelings she held inside her, but she tried to let Daenora see her for herself, and so to lead by example. Gradually, Daenora detached the clinging shadows of her late husband from herself, and let Kiera witness her in all her unvarnished self. It was a great privilege. She felt deeply honoured by Daenora’s trust. It was the most precious of things.