In which Jaimie Krycho kicks off a piece of serial fantasy:
She was standing on his shoulders. Literally.
Sifani might have marveled at the strength and breadth of them, if Lorin wasn’t such a great buffoon. A beautiful buffoon, but a buffoon nonetheless. If he was aware of the fact he certainly didn’t care.
He grunted beneath her weight and looked up at her from below, waiting until she looked back to make eyes at her legs. That was just to stoke her temper, Sifani reminded herself firmly. He did excel at that.
“Do you see anything, my milk-tempered maiden?” Lorin asked sweetly.
Sifani dug her heel into his shoulder bone for good measure.