“Amara?” I sat up as if guilty, looking to the doorway where Dovan stood. Somehow he contradicted the image his words had created in my mind. “Are you well?”
“Yes. I am quite well, Dovan. Please, come in.”
“You've been in here so long, I was afraid something was wrong.”
He came to sit beside me, picking up one of the discarded journals I had already devoured. “Justine told me she had given these to you. I always meant for you to have them, I didn't think you were ready.”
“You write beautifully. I don't know how to put them down.”
“Thank you. Where are you?” He gestured to the leather bound journal in my hand.
I blushed, a little embarrassed, as if I had been caught reading a hidden diary. “Crenoral has just announced Mother's pregnancy.”
“Ah, yes. Well, the next pages are full of re
