8
KA’ID’S PREDICAMENT
“Miss Ka’id, you have a visitor.”
Ehrina Ka’id turned her gaze from the window overlooking the flowery courtyard of the Bower House—a prison in everything but name. Even if the beds were more comfortable.
“They didn’t bring any wine, did they?” She asked the custodian, a stocky, bald, aging fellow with piercing blue eyes. A prison guard in all but name.
“I don’t think so.”
No humor this lot, she thought. “Fine. Send them in anyway. Thank you.”
It took a moment to place the short, voluptuous woman with large, slightly slanted green eyes and black hair, now streaked with grey. “Rina?” She guessed as the other woman crossed the room and sat down across from her at the small, round table next to the window. “Rina Saalesh. Am I right?”
The other woman smiled. “You
