A Child Then

Shanka leveled her dagger at him. “Then you’re a fool.”

“A fool who was in love with a beautiful woman.” He stepped closer.

“A beautiful face is a matter of opinion,” Shanka said, “but a hideous soul is, I think, fairly obvious.”

Rastaban arched an eyebrow. “What happened to the lovely Kana who fed chickens and did laundry and smiled in the sun?”

“What happened to Reshma’s son, who chased dogs in the village and cried whenever his mother went to war?”

“You keep speaking of my mother as if you knew her, but you were a child yourself then.”