“The treaty only requires a daughter be given to another kingdom each generation. Her father has the right to choose which daughter,” the priest continued. “Though there is still the matter of the bride prize for the marroweels.” Father shook his head. “There is no bride prize. We will pay in gold.” “He doesn’t want gold,” the Guardian said. Right. Her. He wanted me. Why? I was not special. The other priest, the Voster still hovering above the floor, raised a hand, and before he spoke, I knew I’d loathe every word from his mouth. “The prince has slain seven female creatures on your behalf, per
...more
