Jun 18
His heart hitting his breastbone, the sound of blood in his ears like the sea, he thought, Why did I never meet you on some marble avenue in Remusa, why did I never see you in some litter on the shoulders of slaves, going by, easy to follow? Why did I never meet you in the whorehouse at Tynt, easy to buy? Why not on the road to Mareuna, all those months kicking my heels, waiting for transport? Twenty, thirty girls, not one of them you. Why not that officer’s wife at Samaia—I could have killed him. Easy, easy. But this. Why now? […] In Remine, concisely, a declaration she had learned, she murmured, “I have consented. To die. I will it.”
— Tanith Lee, Dreams of Dark and Light (1986), “The Dry Season”
