200 YEARS AGO IN VALROK
"I don't think I want to marry Soren," I told my hand maiden as she brushed my hair.
The comb would get tangled in my hair every now and then but Benita was gentle.
"What do you mean by that?" she questioned, slowing down her movements.
"I....I'm only thirteen Beni and I don't want such an important decision to be made on my behalf. Especially not now. I want to live a little. Maybe when I'm older....much older, I can choose who I want to marry, myself." I explained.
Benita slicked back my hair and tied it into a loose ponytail so I could sleep.
Sighing, she placed the comb on the table and made eye contact with me through the mirror. Her hazel eyes met mine.
Her black hair had turned brown from filth and her tired eyes told me she sick of my complaints.
