No time, none at all, to mourn her sister as she should have been mourned. Ethpeal was well past twenty-one, and had to wed immediately. I knew it sat in her mind as she ordered Belvah's pyre built even as Ivan and a handful of Enforcers appeared, all concerned for her.
"We felt your power leave," he said, taking her shoulders in his hands. "Now I know why."
Ethpeal nodded. "Belvah is dead," she said, without emotion, "and I had no choice."
"I know," he said. "Poor Ethie, when did you ever?"
She drew a breath, paused. "Never," she said. "But you do."
His frown of concern faded, one eyebrow shooting up. "I do?"
"Will you marry me, Ivan Dumont?" I wanted to go to her and hug her, offer my love and support, but she was doing her duty, showing her coven, now gathered to witness in the fr
