a wager?she echoed, in tone light but edged with that familiar prim sharpness. the reeds shivered around them as a breeze slipped through, carrying the dry rustle of wings tucked somewhere deeper in the marsh.
you may choose the terms,she said.
i have little of my own to stake.a truth stated without shame; she wore her scarcity like another clean, well-kept line in her posture. in a place she where she has nothing, her wealth comes only from her mind.
but if it pleases you, i can fashion you a hide. something formidable—suited for a pharaoh.
her eyes narrowed slightly, not at him but at the faint stirrings in the reeds. a single heron lifted its head among the cattails, unaware of the two shadows watching.
if i win?she murmured.