Torn into pieces and half-scorched, a scattered pile of parchment reveals a series of letters between a Quisalis Assassin and Ivory Champion.

~ ~ ~

You are incredible, terrifying. Entrancing.
A diamond amidst coal, glittering and unyielding.
I almost care nothing for the failed task. I must see you again.

L.B

~ ~ ~

No names.
The castle in Petra should be far enough from yours and mine, and empty.
Next new moon.

~ ~ ~

A delightful dalliance, Lord. Your sword is as limber as you and your blade.
But do not mistake enthusiasm for the promise of more.
It would be a shame to rub off the shine with familiarity.

Until next time.

~ ~ ~

I am pregnant.

~ ~ ~

Do you require a healer?

~ ~ ~

I WADDLE
Show your face near the Hive and I will gut you.

~ ~ ~

The Hive has named her Adrandira.
She is bonny, and she takes after her mother.

~ ~ ~

Livastra,
Be reasonable. The child cannot grow up in a damp cave, or a crypt.
I can give her a home in the sunlight. To live, and laugh.
Give her the choice of a life in the open, free of your past. Do not consign her to the shadows.
If you wish, I will extend the offer to you as well. I will ensure it happens.

~ ~ ~

She is mine. Never yours.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Summary: The story of Mistress Livastra and Lord Biren is told through their letters to one another.

Penned by My hand on the 18th of Mayan, in the year 890 AF.