13th Day of Spring, 511 A.V. The Medical Library Seasons had passed, and Liel had changed. She still possessed the beauty of her people, yet something was amiss – her violet eyes were frosty and hard, silver in some lights. Her mother worried for her daily, and her sisters, she rarely spoke to. She became engrossed with self-study, disinterested in temple activity. Why? That was the one question that plagued her mind. Why was she born a Konti, why was she in Mura, why had she never been allowed to venture out? Why did the other Konti she know rarely venture out? She immersed herself in the library, drowned in words, dreamed of lands unseen. She was distracted, reserved. It’s age, the other women said, phrases of comfort to her mother. Liel wasn’t so sure. She sat behind an ivory tower of books, snow white hair piled atop her hair in a sweep of lace and shell-encrusted curls. Her rosebud lips were ablush, being bitten cherry-red by a very, very bad habit. Webbed fingertips swept the pages like old friends, and it all stopped when he walked in. He wasn’t Aon. He was much taller and infinitely colder, a bluster of ice winds from a dangerous place. |