*Varek*
The receiving hall stank of foreign wolves and steel. I stand at the threshold of my great hall, jaw set, hands clasped behind my back as the suitors and their families file in.
The first is a blustering lord from the west, his voice already loud enough to rattle the stone like he's been drinking. Behind him trails his wife, sons, and daughters. Their gazes sweep over the keep, and I try not to be irritated that he's brought his daughters. This is supposed to be about bidding for Fiona, not a chance to get his daughters married. I offer curt greetings and wave them through. One after another, they come in, pouring out of their carriages. Some of them are smart enough to bring gifts of food, likely to garner some favor with me.
Then I saw her.
I hadn’t laid eyes on Cara since
