- See also: Blood of Val Foret
I hope father's pleased with himself, marrying me to this bestial hognut. I don't care if the emperor holds him in esteem. I don't care if the Maker holds him in esteem. He drools on me, in his episodes! The fits! Oh, the fits. "Not frequent, and quite harmless!" said he. Such lies. The last one was a full ten minutes. If he has one in the marriage bed, I swear I shall be beaten black and blue by his flailing.
He bestowed upon me a garish gold medallion, encrusted with rubies. I swear, it is an offense to good taste; I look like I am wearing a dinner plate about my neck. He says I should never take it off. The gift is a mark of ownership; he thinks of me as a hound to be collared!
And then he revealed that the medallion was enchanted by a blood mage. It's supposed to protect me! How, when I feel unclean just wearing it? The rubies too much resemble drops of blood, those sacrificed to create this ghastly thing.
I can't believe my ill luck, forced into the bed of this grizzly and into a sinful union with blood magic! I pray that you make a better match, sister.