“She lay awake for a while, listening to the rain as it pattered on the rooftop. It was slackening, and she knew that the third call, the one signaling a breach of the city walls, would not come. She drifted back to sleep and woke again at dawn—once a farmer, always a farmer. She lounged in bed, knowing the town would be in no hurry to rise. Some of the fields would be underwater, and no work could be done until they drained. Mandir, furthermore, was a late riser. She was at her breakfast a coup...le of hours later when Mandir let himself in through the courtyard door, perfectly groomed. “What are we doing today? More scrying?” He stopped short and stared at her. “What?” said Taya, irritated. “You’re not planning to go out like that, are you?” “Like what?” “Your headdress. It’s a mess.” Taya shook her head, wondering which of the Mothers she had offended to be cursed with this man as a partner. “No one has these impossible standards of perfection but you. It’s fine.”MoreLessRead More Read Less
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