Are you alive, Witch? Averil asks me dryly. “Alive, and plotting your fiancé’s death,” I retort. “This idiot cannot be allowed to rule.” I might agree with you there. He has no respect for anyone or anything. How did I ever think he was a good or worthy mate? I was so stupid. “You didn’t know him yet.” Why do I feel compelled to defend her against her own censure? “You were charmed by a pretty face, easy manners, and a sunny smile.” I was naïve, she says. “You were open-hearted, sweet, and hopeful. I wish he’d proved himself worthy of your innocent affection. Instead I had to watch you become
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