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He had outlandish explanations for the eternal question that all Zilvarens asked in hushed whispers behind closed doors: How, after over a thousand years, did the queen still live?
“It’s going to bite you,” Kingfisher said. “No, it won’t. It—” It bit me.
“Death has forgotten me, bitch. My name is nowhere on his register.”
“My name is Carrion Swift. But there was a time when I was known as Carrion Daianthus. Firstborn son to Rurik and Amelia Daianthus.”
I wasn’t myself anymore. I was the ward of a god,