Leta's family were presumably killed during a Rebellion, and she was whisked away by one of her father's most trusted guardsmen to a faraway island to live out her days in exile, as ordered by the new King Calas. After King Calas's death, the Lady L...
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PROLOGUE.
She was small, even for a babe. Francis felt as if he could break her just by holding her too tight, and it terrified him. Leta was a delicate creature— pale, with a head of thick umber curls and bright blue eyes.
The healers had all been sure she would die. In fact, they had been insistent it was quite impossible she would survive the trauma of her birth. But she surprised them all and survived
"She is small and frail, but there is something desperate in her to live."
And she must be protected.
Nobody, not even Francis or any guardsmen, would be able to protect Leta if Calas turned his wrath against her. It made his blood run cold.
This kind and good and innocent girl. "You must protect her," Helena made him promise. You must keep her safe."
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She loved when the wind kissed her face andbrushed her knitted hair over her shoulders. Leta observed the hills below, wishing that the area was filled with water instead of the rock and ice and the abyss. She had been born in Havenhall. She was a daughter of the ocean. The water ran through her veins.
But now she was a person of the mountains and the big empty sky, and she feels a little dead inside.
Faeries, she begged, come take me out of this dull world.
