Finally, getting her labored breathing and pounding heart under control, she stretched her tired body. Pushing back the blankets and turning her head, Carling let her gaze rest upon the silver breastplate, the object that filled her with such varied and extreme emotions. She had never imagined herself as anything but a weaver’s daughter, a citizen of the village of Duenton. She had never desired power or riches or even the honors of men. She wanted nothing more than to continue the life into which she had been born…except, perhaps, a little more time to go hunting in the forest with Higson.
Now her life had completely changed. Her parents were gone and, in her mind, it was her fault. In addition, a Wizard had come into her life, telling her she was to become the queen of Crystonia.
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