46

Kerrigan rested her head against the car window as her escort rushed her back to Targu province.

            “Ma’am, the Prima will be excited to have you back. He has been asking about you ever since you left.” One of the dragoons said.

            “He just wants to be sure his ‘prize’ hasn’t flown the coup,” she retorted.

            “He isn’t all that bad. Perhaps some romance will form after the wedding.”

            Kerrigan snorted, “Carter, just the mere thought of that man makes me go dry! Dry like sandpaper. Do you understand? Don’t ever talk to me about that old fool.”

            &ldqu