Jenny: In Relation To

It had not dawned on her, for it had been irrelevant, that the fellow who had been shaving with Jason's knife had been following them all his while, just a step behind Domitia. Domitia, paranoid of men, had not cared, so when she turned to face him she felt no fear of him. For a moment she could only look up at his height and his unfamiliar face, dumb-struck. Of course he could not know, but it did not make the image any less repulsive - no, obscene. One long, low shudder ran through her body, and schooling her voice to the best of her ability, she said, "The young surgeon is my man. Artos, Lord of Arfon and Eryri and the Left Wing of the White Isle, he is my brother."