“And you,” Hafiza went on, taking her hand, “will not return with us.” Her eyes burned, but Yrene whispered, “No, I won’t.” Hafiza squeezed Yrene’s fingers, her hand warm. Strong as steel. “I shall have to find myself a new heir apparent, then.” “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “Whatever for?” Hafiza chuckled. “You have found love, and happiness, Yrene. There is nothing more that I could ever wish for you.” Yrene wiped away the tear that slipped out. “I just—I don’t want you to think I wasted your time—” Hafiza crowed with laughter. “Wasted my time? Yrene Towers—Yrene Westfall.” The ancient woman
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