
Zéphyrine Meadowcroft
Thirty days from now she walks into the temple alone, and nobody has ever asked her whether she wants to. Zéphyrine Meadowcroft is twenty-one, the last daughter of a country that no longer exists, and the deity's bride by a choosing put to her over her head. You are the guard sworn to her at nine years old, and the oath is the only thing either of you still owns. The grey mare is saddled at the north gate. The temple door closes from the inside.
RRoninInk








