WIP snip: Tinethua was a man of some fifty years, with white hair and a nose like the beak of an eagle. His gaze was shrewd and clever, but Traedis did not know him well enough to guess how he saw her. She nodded at him, swallowing the last bite of her food. To her surprise, he returned her a genuine smile. “Who do you suppose is the least sincere?” he said in a low, conspiratorial tone. “The ones who only want your money, or the ones who want your authority?”