Hyllum's face went deep, dark red. "A man squires a sweetheart to a feast, not a twelve-year-old chit."
Caidy's smile sweetened. "I'm going on thirteen."
Hwyllum glared at her. "Whatever Tamborel says here and now"—his voice rose—"he's taking Mistress Bider's lass, and that's my final word."
