Donna looked at her—really looked. At the dirt under her nails, the strength in her shoulders, the way she watched the bridge with the same steady pride a parent watches a child take its first step. Kaelen didn’t need fixing. She needed a partner.
She traveled to the gorge without a retinue, without a grand carriage, without anything but a toolbox her father the king had given her on her twelfth birthday. Kaelen met her at the edge of the chasm—a broad-shouldered woman with calloused hands and eyes that crinkled when she smiled. princess donna
“Then come back,” Kaelen said. “Again and again. Build bridges with me—real ones, not just of wood and rope.” Donna looked at her—really looked
“What did you expect?”