What lies behind

Alastor straightened himself up from his slump position in the chair. He carefully cut the turkey pieces before chewing them in his knife.

“I was under the impression the first time that you’re a monster.”

“Rude.” Almost breaking to smile, the sorceress said.

“Forgive me, but most of the time when I see a beaut like you, it’s either an imp disguising as one or a bandit pretending to be a damsel in distress.”

“Good news for you, I am not an imp nor a damsel in distress.”

“It appears so. Surviving this long, you must be tough.”

She blinked. “It is. Living here alone taught me how to preserve myself.”

“I can see that.”

“Are you by chance a Raedavenian?” Noora asked.

Alastor shrugged and shook his head impassively.

“You look like one, by the standard of your dress of course.”

Alastor looked at himself. “And here I thought that this is just some rag suit.”

“Pardon?”