“I think it’s the Sept’s huntsman himself, Mother.” “Well,” she said after a moment, “let’s go see what they want.” She led her brood out of the trees and down to the trail that led from field to house. Gura barked welcome as they neared, and Seraph saw that he’d kept the men from approaching the house too closely. Now that Seraph was nearer to the house she saw the steward’s distinctive braid, which he wore to hide the balding spot on the top of his head. “Hello, Forder,” Seraph sai...d. “Welcome.” At the sound of her voice Gura quieted, his job done. “Seraph Tieraganswife,” said the Sept’s steward. “Where have you been?” He asked it as if it were her fault he’d been kept waiting, as if he had clan-father rights over her. Part of her flexed, like a cat testing its claws. So many years in Redern and she still couldn’t get used to the way women were treated—as if being a man gave them the right to hold sway over any woman who crossed their paths.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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