"Do you see his wild lady?" Aldamir asks, leaning close to my ear. "See how she rides, her legs astride her horse's back like a man!" He looks at me, suspicion clouding his grey eyes. "Get you no ideas, sister; those children of the north are no match for a lord of Gondor, or for a lady."
Yet when I look upon her, I see something else. Golden-haired, bright-eyed, strong: alien but not ignoble. And in her eyes I see wisdom to temper her courage, and compassion to lead us.
My lord does not pick his lady too poorly, methinks.