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Kindle Notes & Highlights
it didn’t matter. This was blood magic, and the song had a life of its own.
The tempest that raged that night broke the land from the northernmost tip of Fjerda and formed the islands that the men of the land now call Kenst Hjerte, the broken heart.
She knew they would be cursed as their father to long for what they shouldn’t, and cursed as their mother to give up what they most held dear in the hope for something more.
waiting for the lonely, the ambitious, the clever, the frail, for all those willing to strike a bargain.
