CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Sarka sat there in her cottage, cross-legged, her back against the wall in her humble living room, and watched Gareth. Bleary-eyed, she had been watching him all night, while he held his dagger to her sister’s throat. She had been waiting for her chance. She knew that at some point he would give into weakness and doze off. She, though, would not.
Sarka adored her sister more than anything, and it sickened her to sit here, helpless, and watch this excuse of a King burst into her home and hold her kid sister hostage. It had been one of the worst feelings of her life, and she sat there, determined, whether he was king or not. She would not cower in fear and deference like her father; she would be bold and risk her life to save her sister’s.
Her father, an oaf of a man who h
