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Summary
“You deserve a gift, even so,” my uncle continues and I don’t hear the danger in it until it’s too late. “Kassandra, stand for me.”
No.
My eyes are still on Brasidas as he turns to me, squaring his wool covered shoulders. I stand, unwilling or unable to resist a direct order from my King.
“Come forward, I’ve made my decision.”
A prized pig brandied about to the highest bidder. My eyes cast low as my dread is replaced by fire.
“Brasidas, my niece’s hand for your victories. You’ll wed in Gamelion, Hera’s moon. Many blessings.”
I can’t look up. I can’t face it.
The fire goes cold, barely knowing warmth within my chest.
Brasidas doesn’t touch me, perhaps knowing that I’d snap his wrist if he tried.
Series
- Part 1 of Tradition be Damned