Brother galloped in on a lathered horse.
“Virgin hunters. In town.”
Emilia knew what was coming. She could marry. Or die.
“Who?”
Phillipus.
“He won’t like it.”
“No but he won’t give you to be drained.”
Turned out he would.
As Emilia was absorbing inevitability, there came a knock at the door. A gaunt figure in soldier’s grey stood on the stoop.
Father hustled him in.
“You married?”
“No sir…”
“You’re about to be.”
The blood was mixed and Emilia felt the tie that bound her to Mother Earth snap.
Life with a stranger had to be better than death…
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