Kellaras and Pelk

She had a soldier’s build, barely softened by age or inactivity. There was a faint roll of fat encircling her belly, just above the hips, and protruding slightly at the front. Her breasts were full but not disproportionately so. Beneath the left one there was an old scar, a finger’s length, stitching a line between her ribs. Kellaras stared at it. ‘Abyss take me, Pelk, that looks right above the heart. How you survived-’
‘I ask myself that often enough,’ she interrupted, a harshness coming to her tone. ‘A cutter told me my heart’s in the wrong place. If it’d been in the right place, I’d have died before I hit the ground. Now, as you can see, the tub’s too big for me to be standing outside it and scrubbing your back – not without putting a vile ache in my spine. So, we get in together.’
‘Ah, yes, of course.’
‘There’re advantages,’ she said.
‘Excuse me?’
‘My heart being in the wrong place. Makes it hard to find, and I prefer it that way. If you understand me.’
He was not sure that he did, but he nodded anyway.

Fall of Light (“The Kharkanas Trilogy”) / Steven Erikson

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