Roman felt wonderful.
His palm stroked Shasta's black hair, smooth and silky.
She hadn't done much to maintain it, yet it felt surprisingly nice, nearly indistinguishable from Nillie's.
This could only be the result of some people's unique constitution.
He slid his hands into Shasta's hair, his fingers wanting to grasp tightly but afraid of hurting her.
But even so, Shasta felt uncomfortable.
She couldn't breathe.
Compared to the past hardships of eating in the wind, uncertain mornings, and being chased to the ends of the earth,
Life now was just too good.
So good it felt unreal.
The man before her had never discriminated against them; he treated them as people, as equals, neither overly familiar nor distant, his attitude towards them no different from anyone else's.
