“Faile, please. I need you to carry this message to Caemlyn.” Her hand tightened in his beard, and her head swung as if she were arguing with herself inside her head. “I will go,” she said at last, “but I want a price. You always make me do things the hard way. In Saldaea, I would not have to be the one who asked. My price is … a wedding. I want to marry you,” she finished up in a rush.
