didn’t wake in a cell, strung up, or in a dragon’s mouth. Nobody’s called me a filthy null or made my stabby hand twitch too much. I didn’t get tackled to the floor the moment I stepped free of my suite, painted in the blood of a sacrificial beast, or tied to a stick and offered to the Sabersythes. Nobody called me Kholu or ordered me to stay and breed some world-saving offspring, nor am I being herded by a mythical silver feline.
Thanks for the re-cap I guess? We didn't really need it, but okay.
Meg liked this
