“When shall we speak?”
“Now, I think,” Ayla said, her eyes locked on Kira’s. “This conversation is a very long time overdue.”
Leaving Hope to guard Nive, and Mary to converse with a daffodil, Ayla and Kira disembarked from their carriage and made their way into the main fortress.
The witch’s stronghold was a place of wonders and riches, but Kira’s eyes were not interested in any of the treasures abundantly displayed. Instead they were drawn to the sway of Ayla’s hips, the roundness of her rear displayed charmingly in the soft silk which flowed from shoulders to the floor.