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It had been the largest culling in the region yet, the flames stoked by the bishop in his fervent quest to save humanity from witchcraft.
It had been the largest culling in the region yet, the flames stoked by the bishop in his fervent quest to save humanity from witchcraft.
my lengthy black hair. It was as silky as a raven’s feather when the night began,
“I see a shrewd young woman who has learned to survive and adapt, despite being betrayed and abandoned by those closest to her, who is acutely aware of her surroundings and suitably wary of dangers, but who has the fortitude to keep her wits about her, even in the most perilous situations, who knows when she has no other choice but to make the best of her circumstances. All these things will serve you well.”
The rest of his olive-skinned features are as hard and angular as his jaw, framed by a mane of golden-brown hair that sweeps backward off his face
My face. The one I’ve known all my life, back when my life was ordinary in East Orange, Jersey, and then when my life became anything but ordinary. The same blue eyes of Alton’s Adriatic Sea, the same hair, as black
I am a prisoner who has no idea where she is being kept, and no way of gathering information, per the king’s declaration that no one entertain my amnesia
questions, on threat of harsh punishment. Wendeline informed me of that when I asked her about the cuffs around my wrists. And so, I remain completely ignorant to my surroundings, mentally reviewing over and over the few bits that I have learned so I don’t lose track.
Zander doesn’t realize how effective his punishment is. I didn’t fear being alone. I’ve been alone for years. But trapped like this, without being able to step outside, is suffocating. Lately, I feel like throwing my head back and shrieking at the top of my lungs.
“You’ve done everything wrong. You are hotheaded, you speak out of turn and do the opposite of what we agreed to, you antagonize me as if you have no fear of consequence. You continue to lie and deceive me. Your heart bleeds too much for the plight of mortals, and you seem willing to challenge anyone who doesn’t bleed the same.” He sighs, his hazel eyes settling on me, a brilliant kaleidoscope of gold in the setting sun. “You do everything wrong, and yet everything right.”
I’ve seen enough to know that you put too much ego and entitlement under one roof, and basic decency wanes. Unfortunately, in Islor, crying over too many lemons is the least of these mortals’ hardships.
