Northstar Vale jayflower

Finally—the ashen arrow broke. She wept freely then, burying her face into the soft nape fur of her friend. “I’m sorry,” she murmured, the guilt almost overwhelming in that very moment. Tamar did not seem to hold it against her—not yet, at least—but what would happen if the Pharaoh’s intentions were far more deceptive than simply riling them with gifts and promises of invitations to grand parties? She had played the part of a fool! And now, if he angered enough, Tamar seemed to believe he held the power to do far more to them.

“I can never be sorry enough.”