The lid off, the full force of the aroma hits his senses and he goes rigid. When she turns away, his hand flies to her wrist, not an iron grip, but not gentle either. His voice bears the weight one might expect from a man who has commanded thousands, but it is still a human voice.

"The stench of your fear is not appetising to me, Rae. Do not forget, I have placed myself under your hospitality. Those rules are very old, and cover both host and guest. So still your heart. Frightened hare is not a look that becomes you."