Synopsis
The age of plague. Five cycles of torment already behind her — used up by royalty and the powerful as the only known cure for the sickness. Death kept refusing her, no matter how many times she tried. She had until her thirtieth birthday, when the sacred relic would finally strip her of everything. If she wanted out before then, she needed a partner. She needed him. "Take me as your mistress." "No." Predictable. Irynsis sighed and started working out her next approach — but then Cassion opened his mouth again. "Marry me instead." What was she even supposed to…
