"Isabell," Ashlynn said, holding onto the older woman's slender, almost bony hands and looking deeply into her steely-gray eyes. "I need to know something. I don't know if you know or not, but if you know, please tell me the truth. Someone told Owain about my mark, but they didn't tell him until after the ceremony was over, so it must have been some time during the feast or the ball."
Ashlynn's heart hammered in her chest, drowning out the familiar, steady echo of Nyrielle's faint heartbeat during the day as she faced the question that had haunted her for more than half a year. Her palms were damp with sweat, and her face felt flushed from more than just the heat of the fire in the hearth as she looked deep into Isabell's eyes, hoping her friend would have the answer she so desperately needed.
