The new boots were too rough for your feet. A fight was brewing without the slightest chance of winning, until a wonderful idea came to your mind.

"Let her put on my boots."

The boots were clearly too small for Anzir, and after a short fight you managed to get out alive and even unharmed. And you decided - out of mercy or pity - to leave Anzeer alive. That same evening, ashamed, she came to you silently.

You defeated me. And I came to offer you my services. That man paid me, and you won the duel. Now I belong to you, and if you refuse, then I will have to go to the Hag's embrace. Such is the custom.