‘Please, Thysandra.’ I leaned towards her, emphasising the plea. My last chance. My finishing move. ‘Just one binding – just something to make bloody Lord Khailan swallow his pride. I’m begging you.’ ‘I’ll give you your one binding,’ she spat, half coming up from her plank bed. ‘Khailan’s is the twenty-third orb in the fifth west aisle. A boon you don’t need in return for your useless offers. Now get out.’ I could have cried. Instead, all I said as I scrambled to my feet was, ‘I hope you’ll come to appreciate us more during your stay.’ ‘I hope you drown in your own chamber pot,’ she snapped,
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