The fire flickered, seeming to cast little enough warmth into the room, and it was with great difficulty that Felicity was able to conceal any of her horror at the dessicated sight of the aged man. His hands were a little rough, and very dry - and, she realized from Brom's words, they were the hand of the liege of the lands.<br/><br/>Swiftly, glad that the motion would put her bosom out of easy reach, she sank to her knees and bowed her head with a murmured acknowledgment, "Your Grace."