Wearing the Yecine black felt heavier today. Her formal attire had been precisely tailored for the coming ceremony - jacket and trousers cut to emphasize the warrior's bearing they had spent the years instilling. Qatrand's steps looked purposeful from that same training, as she followed the procession of elders through familiar corridors.
Four years had taught her every shadow of these halls. Four years since she first witnessed killed, killer, and killing in the arena below. Her pigeon-blue eyes remained forward and focused, though her thoughts briefly strayed to the letter hidden beneath her pillow.
It had not been but a few months since they first met, yet Elua er Goltbred's cheerful script in the latest letter had detailed a new confection shop. Her enthusiasm practically radiated from the page… and she could imagine the cute girl speaking each word excitedly.
