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Weekly Contest #197
Solina watched her mother flit about the small, dusty room. She could see the blotching of her skin, despite the many layers of makeup the matriarch used. As much as Eissa preached about this being an honor, it was not hidden she was worried about the potential loss of her daughter. “Do we really have to continue to do this? Has he not had enough wives to keep him entertained?” Solina protested as Eissa scurried back, miles of fabric swallowing her. “Solina! You mustn’t speak so ill of Meldir. Yes, we must offer a bride to the God of Harvest...
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