married off his daughter

garden?”

“You are in the hands of fate,” Zainab replied softly.

As the first grey light of dawn filtered through the shutters, the boy’s fever broke. The wound had been cleaned, the artery stitched with the delicacy of a lace-maker. Yusha sat in a chair by the hearth, his hands shaking, covered in the blood of his enemy’s son.

The messenger, who had been continue reading …