[Imladris]

"Your assistance in building the temple earns my utter thanks. 'Tis a pity that the King so called you to do what you vehemently opposed. But, my lady, it is a good cause, as all things you oppose are."

Arshalous stepped back as if Korak had slapped her cheek. Her dark eyes flashed as Korak strode back on his heel, his slinking servant accompanying him. She would ignore his poisoned insult, but she would not let him disillusion himself further upon certain other matters. She dashed over to him and stopped in front of him, forcing him to stop. "You said that I helped you," she whispered softly. "Let me tell you now that I do not help you. I help the King. I do this for the King. Not for you. But because he asked me to."

With a glance of disdain, she strode away from him. The wind pulled her hair and made her bracelets tinkle merrily. She wished that she could shush their voices, for they laughed when they should weep.

And why should they weep, she asked herself mockingly. Because her cousin had insulted her? But he had never said that before. Had he? Or had she been deaf to it.

She twisted the rings that sparkled on her fingers. Korak was no man -- all his courage, all his wit, all his rude leavings stemmed from his servant. He was no noble. He was no better than she.