They were something else.She strode through the hallways of her father's villa, her skirt rustling against the polished floors. Caina wore a long blue gown with black embroidery, the sleeves and bodice tight. She liked wearing blue. He said it matched her eyes, made her...She frowned. Who liked it when she wore blue? She could not remember.But then she stood before the door to her father's library, and a rising tide of emotion swept away her doubts. She pushed through the door, heart in her throat. Her father's library looked just as she remembered, the same high wooden shelves stacked with books and scrolls, the tall windows overlooking the town of Aretia and the Bay of Empire. But that was impossible. Maglarion's men had burned the villa...Her hands flew her to mouth.Alastair Corus stood by the window, and he grinned when he saw her. He looked just as she remembered, strong and tall, his blond hair close-cropped. A ring gleamed on his left hand. A ring of similar design rested on her left hand."Wife," said Alastair, striding toward her with open arms."Wife?" whispered Caina. No, that was impossible.
