Percy couldn't place the name immediately, but a bit of thought conjured an image of a pretty redheaded young woman, about Cassandra's age. Noble, from her bearing, and extremely well mannered. A gentlewoman in all senses of the word. He vaguely recalled also seeing the two together yesterday before dinner, playing in Pike's snow.

He didn't know what Snow's connection to her was but he did know that heartache did not discriminate. "I'm sorry," he said at last. It was inadequate. He was not Vex to soothe with the right words, or Keyleth to see to the heart of a person.

"Would you like me to reload your gun?"