Xandra

I lean against the wall of the barracks as healed troops parade before me in Dun’s Crossing’s pale blue and Tansy Beach’s rich indigo. If Father were here, he’d lecture me about my posture, about failing to stand at attention for these brave men who’ve risked so much for our kingdom. But if I try to stand upright, the gray at the edges of my vision stands a real chance of taking over entirely, and I’ve managed not to faint in public since I saw them burning ...