The two bloom in tandem, seedbearing head and skirt, glory above and below. In its most prized form, the altarskirt grows a layer of overlarge petals that drape the ground. Not only do its petalsunfold in a radiance of pearled white, but frequently it grows an incomplete secondary fl ower about the base of its stem. (This is not a digression.) It is called the altarskirt rose. There is a rose that is famous in High North. And as the driver stopped the coach on a hill outside the city, ostensibly to water the horses but more likely because he was a local and liked to watch foreigners gawk, I got my first glimpse of the Hundred Thousand Kingdoms’ heart. Thus arrayed, I arrived at my destination on the cusp of the winter solstice.

It is well known that Amn respect displays of wealth. The Darre Warriors’ Council, which rather desperately hoped that I might restore us to the Arameri’s good graces, thought that this extravagance would help. Despite Darr’s relative poverty, I traveled in style the whole way, first by palanquin and ocean vessel, and finally by chauffeured horse-coach. It took the better part of three months to travel from the High North continent to Senm, across the Repentance Sea. Because one does not refuse an invitation from the Arameri, I set forth. One month after my mother died, I received a message from my grandfather Dekarta Arameri, inviting me to visit the family seat. In the Arameri way, which is the way of the Amn race from whom they originated, I am the Baroness Yeine Darr. I also am, or was, the chieftain of my people, called ennu. Tribes mean little to us these days, though before the Gods’ War they were more important. In my people’s way I am Yeine dau she Kinneth tai wer Somem kanna Darre, which means that I am the daughter of Kinneth, and that my tribe within the Darre people is called Somem. The tales do not say what happens when the most powerful family in the world is offended in the process.īut I forget myself. In the tales, such a couple lives happily ever after. It is the stuff of great tales, yes? Very romantic. I have often wondered what he said and did that night to make her fall in love with him so powerfully, for she eventually abdicated her position to be with him. My father dared ask my mother to dance she deigned to consent. There was a ballfor the lesser nobility-the sort of thing that happens once a decade as a backhanded sop to their self-esteem. Yet it does not surprise me that she tried. I was born anyhow, of course nature cannot be denied.

They say my mother crossed her legs in the middle of labor and fought with all her strength not to release me into the world. My people tell stories of the night I was born.

They have done this to me, broken me open and torn out my heart.

The inheritance trilogy