They call her princess, only daughter of the man who ruled over a small town with fear and bloodshed and the power of his wife. Princess, the woman with snakes for hair calls her the first time she meets the girl who would hold her symbol. Princess, her father calls her, a twisted smirk on his face as he watches her read great tomes by the time she’s five because she will be the heir to her mother’s magic, he knows that. He doesn’t know that she doesn’t intend to stay, especially not after he starts to “train” her and leaves her with bruises painting the side of her face.

Nenet doesn’t have time to listen to what she is called or what she’s supposed to do, there are magics to study and myths to learn and plans to form. Because lingering inside her head is the feeling she has to be ready, there’s no time to wait.

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