“Look what you made me do, little one. No king should chase his runaway servant, and certainly not into lands he hasn’t stepped on for nearly two centuries.” I didn’t want it to, but my face fell into the crook of his neck, letting tears run down his collarbone. “You broke my legs.”

“Look what you made me do, little one. No king should chase his runaway servant, and certainly not into lands he hasn’t stepped on for nearly two centuries.” I didn’t want it to, but my face fell into the crook of his neck, letting tears run down his collarbone. “You broke my legs.”

— Liv Zander