They met in the ladylike parlor that had once belonged to Mara’s mother. Warrior women with copper clasped braids and daggers strapped to their leather jerkins or thrust into the tops of their tall boots lounged on velvet cushioned chairs meant for more gentle females at less serious business. Ren served them wine and honey-cakes, then retreated to the windows, where she usually sat during the Prince’s conferences.
“The removal of our troops from the Redlands complicates matters,” Mara told her Shieldmaids. She knelt on the carpet, a map of the Northlands spread …read more