Shy Deer Steppes tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow

Easy's grin concealed nothing. It had been a good time—and now her grandmother was pregnant again. She said a silent prayer for the woman's health; she was older, after all, and nothing in this world was guaranteed.

Hmm, she murmured in reply to talk of Sumac. Is he a prince? Or some wayward royal?

She would accept nothing less—truly. Her time in Mynydd had spoiled her rotten, and even if she were a bastard princess, she'd cling to the latter part of that title like a spider monkey.