Chapter 10
Eppie hated waiting. She stirred the fire into sparks while Thorat went down to the village. At least she was with him, though, not sitting in Anamat waiting for him to come back only to fall into the ambassadress’s alabaster arms. Maybe that was why she’d volunteered to deliver the sword to Thorat, to see him for herself again, to see if he was really all she’d imagined him to be after their brief meeting at Midsummer. He was still the handsomest man she’d ever seen, but he was also glum and wary, distant and not as charming as she remembered. From time to time, he would turn to the hills and gaze longingly in the direction of Anamat, with an expression on his face that reminded her of the ambassadress, who was always there, waiting for him like a jewel in a box.
She sat down
