Claudia felt much warmer and comfortable under the protection of the cloak. She donned it with haste, trying to cover up as much of herself as possible. The task done, she glanced this way and that, wondering what she should do next. She realized a moment later that she was waiting for his orders. Not even a day and she was already behaving like a slave, she scolded herself resentfully.

He did not disappoint her, however. "Come. Sit. Eat," he'd said. Gladly, her stomach responded eagerly, and, complying, she approached the small fire. She hesitated, then, wrapping the cloak yet tighter, sat across from him.

Claudia gave him a look of thanks when he offered the fruit to her. He had no idea how hungry she was. She then turned her attention to the bowl and studied its contents briefly. The melon and figs were meager compared to her former life's pleasures, but after eating the tough, barely edible bread while she was caged, this was a very pleasant change. She took a fig and daintily nibbled on it. The sweet taste filled her mouth before she swallowed gratefully. Then, abandoning any more attempts at manners, she bit viciously into the fig and for the next minutes or so, concentrated entirely on satisfying her hunger. After all, he had told her not to be shy.

As Claudia's appetite began to decline, she ate slower and looked a little about her. She had noticed that he had only offered the fruit to her, not the meat. That was reserved for himself, it seemed. She eyed the small plate that the meat rested upon. She had seen finer pieces before, but its rather peculiar design caught her interest. Maybe she would ask him about it later. She was feeling a great deal more pleasant towards the man after being fed.

His words, sounding strange after the long silence, interrupted her reverie. She looked up at him, studying him with large, observant green eyes. Her pride writhed in pain when he said "last owner". He assumed that she had been owned, that the auctioneer had spoken a lie, that she could not possibly have actually been a noblewoman.

"My name is Claudia," she said softly. Her voice was more audible here than in the loud market place. Her speech was too refined and lofty for that of a commoner, and it held somewhat of a musical lilt. She continued, in slightly stronger tones. "My last owner didn't call me anything, because I never had one before you. I wasn't a....slave." Her voice faltered a little, and she broke eye contact with him. "I'm not a slave," she added, so quietly that it could barely be heard. The last words seemed to be directed at herself more than him.