Over my dead body, Nesah thought when he offered his arm, and instead, she picked up the pace, so that she could walk ahead of him while getting off the beach. She tried to march on steadily, despite the difficulty of walking in the sand in her shoes, and the heavy winds pulling at her hair and skirts. Once in town, however, she had to look at him for directions.

She entered the tearoom and looked around. It wasn't as bad as some. The decorations and wallpaper not too gaudy. The seating area not too packed. The young women strode over to a table in the back, as far away from the window as she could get, and she sat down quickly, before he could assist. Then she looked at the painter. "Hardly a place I would expect a gentleman to frequent on his own..."