"Don't be frightened, Your Highness. I don't intend to hurt you. I only wish to talk to you."
"Damn, what sort of talk is this?" Roland swallowed and slowly turned around. Under the threat of a dagger, he could only wait for the other side to speak.
In the shadow of candlelight, Roland saw the other person. She was sitting on his bed, her body hidden under a robe, and a hood hiding her face, so he could not see her clearly. Candlelight cast her shadow over a large part of the wall.
"Who are you?"
"I have no name; my sisters call me Nightingale." She stood up, pulled up her robe, and made a curtsy as properly as any lady. "First of all, I'd like to express my gratitude to you, Your Royal Highness Roland Wimbledon."
"Gratitude?" Roland noticed that the pattern on her robe shimmered peculiarly in candlelight. Three parallel triangles with the shape of an eye. Where had he seen this before?
