Angharad left her chambers, unable to believe quite what she was doing. She kept her cheese knife concealed under her nightdress as she stepped out into the freezing cold. Her whole body shook as she walked. Her breathing came sharp and shallow, and she had to stop a dozen times to lean against a wall, to rest her weary body.
But whenever she felt as though her energy would be depleted, Rosin laid her tiny hands upon Angharad’s bear skin. With a whispered spell, a new burst of energy would enter Angharad’s body, allowing her to carry on.
“If I kill the Heir, then I’ll be sentenced to death,” she whispered. “I don’t know if I can do this.”
“That’s very rich, from a girl who was about to kill herself,” Rosin said, rolling her eyes.
“It’s true though.”
“I’ll protect you, girl. If they pu
