ANNOYINGLY, I don't get the chance to make good on my promise to Yennara. Not that rainy night. And not in the days that follow—because as soon as we step into my bedroom from the kitchen, a big box of letters is waiting by the foot of the sprawling bed, hand-delivered by a royal courtier, looming like an afrront to our breaking passion. I remember thinking, what now? Yennara had taken one long, languorous look at the sealed correspondence, only blinking once in defeat. "I'll fetch the quill and signet."
"Yen?" I'd tried to stop her.
"It's alright," she had said. "We'll have ample time to play. This, can't wait."
And then she was out the door. I can also recall me vividly putting her words to heart.
Ample time to play? Hear! Hear!