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Paperback
First published August 27, 2019

"My life is yours," Tristan whispered to Branwen, leaning in close as he walked toward the door. "Do with it what you will."
"Do you know what today is?
Shaking his head, Ruan lifted a hand to her cheek. "What day is it?"
"My birthday."
"Why didn't you mention it?"
Her cousin had forgotten, and Tristan had never known. Branwen shrugged. "It didn't seem important," she said.
"How old are you?" Ruan's hand followed her cheekbone. He skimmed his thumb along her mouth. Branwen made a sound halfway between a moan and a sigh.
"Twenty summers."
His hand continued down the length of her neck. "And am I your present?"
Branwen trapped it against the swell of her breasts and stared Ruan in the eyes. "Only if you want to be," she said.
He snaked his other hand around her waist and pressed her flush against him. "You know I do, Branwen."
"Lady Branwen, I know that you and my wife are the closest of sisters," King Marc said. "Now that we are wed, I consider you my sister, too. I hope you might come to see me as a brother."
"Darkness is coming," Branwen said. "I don't know that I can fight it."
"Darkness comes every evening, and it leaves every morning." The Wise Damsel lifted a shoulder, unperturbed.
"What if I'm the darkness?"
"You must choose to be the light."
"...there's nothing keeping us apart now, Branwen. You know all of my secrets." A tear slid from the corner of his eye. "You paid for my mistakes tonight, and I will spend every day for the rest of my life earning your forgiveness."
