Her eyes narrowed. “Now I’m sure of it. You’re not even a Chiranian, are you?”
He raised a brow. “Why do you say that?”
“Because if you were, you’d not be surprised. It’s common practice here.”
“For people to sell their children?”
“Not their children, Mansur. Their daughters.” She shivered as a cool breeze passed. “They’ll likely be a while. That’ll give me time to explain things. Maybe next time you can tell me how you—a non-Chiranian—ended up here . . . and in Zarek’s guard.”
She grinned. “Occasionally, I need to get out. That’s when I remind him,” she gestured her husband’s way, “that everyone has to sleep sometime.”
“Yes. Sorry. Chaya. What does that mean?”
“It’s simple, really. Cark doesn’t fear me for my size, but there are other ways to . . . take a life. It would be easiest for me to do so when he’s unaware of his surroundings. So, I remind him from time to time, that even he requires sleep.”
The Oathtaker grinned. The woman was either incredibly brave, or shockingly foolish. “You were saying?”
“Oh yes, about my parents selling me.” She sucked in a long, deep breath.
Moments later, Marshall lost himself in the sound of her voice.
Click Follow to receive emails when this author adds content on Bublish