"Over there," Ashlynn said, pointing to a point high above the crashing waves on a cliff overlooking the sea. "It'll be perfect."
The place that Ashlynn had directed Nyrielle to was far enough outside of Blackwell City that the crash of waves and the occasional cry of night birds drowned out the faint sounds of the Holy Festival of Light. Here, the tall grasses bent and swayed in the summer breeze and only the moon, high in the sky, could observe the two lovers' arrival atop the towering cliff.
"When I was younger, if Father was away at court, I used to sneak up here with Jocey in the small hours of the morning," Ashlynn said as she pulled a small table cloth out of the basket and spread it out before unpacking the basket.
