{"The Dark Gift should not be bestowed upon the crippled, maimed, children, or those unable to survive independently; recipients should be beautiful to further affront God."}
I had barely taken my place beside Frery again, the weight of my words still hanging in the air like smoke, when another voice rang out.
"I, too, have something to say." The heads that had just begun to turn away from us snapped back toward the voice. Even Frery's eyes narrowed slightly as he turned, and Qadira was standing beneath the gilded crescent of the council dais, hands at her sides, chin held high. Her raven-dark hair shimmered with starlight, and the markings of Mira magic coiled faintly at her throat, alive and watchful.
Aurora arched a brow. "Yes, Qadira Kayne"
