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General Caleb Shaw knelt at the palace gates for ten days and ten nights, trading away his entire record of meritorious war deeds for the right to marry a princess. But on the day of our wedding, clad in silversteel armor and wielding a lance, he stormed the palace gates and ran the Emperor through. My mother, the queen, hanged herself. I was bound and thrown into a small sedan chair, sent off to Northica as a peace bride. Crying, I confronted Caleb. But he looked down at me from his horse, shielding Lydia Lin behind him. "Your father loved sending people off to peace marriages so much, didn't he? Then let his own daughter enjoy such fortune." One chieftain followed another. I went from a chieftain's concubine to a gift traded between tribes, and finally became a camp attendant—a woman bought for as little as a single flatbake. Three years later, Northica was slaughtered. Crawling out of a tent wrapped in a graybrown sheepskin, I caught a glimpse of a silver-saddled white horse flashing through the chaos...