But throughout it all, as the hours passed and no more words were spoken of my betrothed and the debacle of his return, a face kept company with my thoughts. The beautiful face of a woman who I only knew through tales of war and sketches I’d seen of our most powerful enemies. A woman with pink hair and cold eyes who had let my betrothed seduce her. A woman whose life now stood between me and all I had worked so very hard for. A woman whose death might just be the key to my fortunes finally changing. A woman who was, in fact, a witch.
