is imaginary Finavir, perhaps . . .

    Sill struggling to come aually looked eac terrible day by the Deisa.

    ful t t s s begin to cry.  do. Not today. No one, not even Scelto—especially not Scelto,  be alloo see anyt fe pride, and a certainty of success.

    t few  few hours.

    t o ters  and t before time, and not  a certain relief beneato an end.

    It  simplicity, from t sood by ter, drao, finally, of release.

    t same day, in told ing in Ygrat t Dorotea o o die for w so spare her, he would have no real choice.

    wiso spare her, Brandin said.

    t else o  morning ts of tern Palm. o make t vision real, he said.

    For tself, and for the people here in his provinces. And for his own soul. And for her.

    Only to become people of o stay, o sail o Girald.

    just for Stevan and t to  ant; but to build a united realm ter han he had known.

    t ant.

    Dianora ened to  ears beginning to fall, and o lay hrough her dark hair.

    he would need a Queen, he had said.

    In a voice s of for so long. ed to have sons and

    daugo start again and build upon tevans loss, t somet and fair mighe years of sorrow.

    And tly t truto . Once, s it far more likely t s grasp and o her.

    S, unable to stop, for in   ogety and prescience oo mucal soul. For al soul. triads oo mucter sorro ttom of t s, s ead of leaving  t  as muching ever had in all her life.

    Let it go! sed to say, ed so muco say t s  t tigana come bac