Gon stood in the dim kitchen, the firelight flickering across the cook's trembling form.
He took a moment to really look at her, his eyes tracing her from head to toe, she wasn't flashy like the noblewomen upstairs, no jewels or silks, but there was something about her, simple, honest, attractive in a quiet way.
Her face was soft, round at the cheeks with a faint flush from the heat of the hearth, her nose was small, a little upturned, and her lips were full, parted slightly as she breathed too fast.
Her eyes, big and hazel, shimmered with nervous tears, framed by dark lashes that fluttered when she blinked, her braid hung loose, strands of brown hair slipping free, curling against her neck where sweat glistened.
Her body was sturdy, built for work, broad shoulders sloped into arms thickened from kneading dough and hauling pots.
