"I think I'll survive," she says, watching him examine her hand with a wry smile. A woman from the court might have soft hands, but Greta's are accustomed to work, strengthened by years of kneading dough and toughened by a series of inevitable minor burns. They're not so calloused as his, and the strings probably will be a bit rough on her at first, but she might cope better than most.

She's very pleased he seems to like the idea. Learning an instrument is something of an indulgence back home, something she certainly never thought she'd get to do, and it's exciting to think of getting a chance to pick one up, after all. How lucky for her to have befriended a good musician so quickly!

"I'm glad you're here," she says warmly, curling her fingers around his. "You're a good friend."