Naiobe watches Owen as he hesitates by the stables.<em>What are you thinking?</em>she wonders to herself, pulling a warm cloak over her shoulders and fastening it. It always seems very cold in their mountain home, even during the height of summer, and she pulls the thick fabric close around her slender frame as she watches. The expression on Owen's face seems to give away enough that she can guess at what he's thinking, but she is not a mind reader. She'll just have to be careful until she knows him better.<br/><br/>"It's Brom's doing," she says softly as she approaches him from behind. Hopefully he had heard the faintest whisper of a footstep, so that her words don't startle the hell out of him. "Brom's twisted tastes have infected the castle. He resents it when anyone resists his influence." She comes to a stop before Owen, looking up at his face. "Or his advances," she says with a hint of shame.