"Yeah, well - I'm stuck here for the next foreseeable future," Jamie answers, standing at the shoreline, breathing in air that feels more like salt than air. He's in Essetir, for fucking political negotiations, because, apparently, Essetir needs an army [ obviously, Jamie could've told you that without even setting foot in the country to Castremam's east ] and they have a prince to marry off to get it. It won't be to Mercia, whose eldest is a man, and whose throne passes from father to eldest son [ a stupid way to determine a country's succession, in Jamie's opinion ], and they need heirs, so a prince won't get them an heir. But, with Castremam, whose line of succession doesn't rely on having children by birth [ smart ], they can marry their prince off to Jamie, and there'd be no harm in it. Paddy and Pep seem to think it's wise, but Jamie's angry. Why should he not get to choose his to-be Queen? Paddy chose his Queen, Pep his. Jamie is the first in generations to be forced into a marriage like this. And, until the deal is done, Jamie is stuck in Essetir, breathing their salt-air, and, yes, staring at the ocean like it's going to eat him.
He'd heard tales of the women of the waters, but he'd never met one before Keeley [ because he's never seen the ocean before this journey to Essetir, and he doesn't know if women of the rivers exist, but if they do, they've never showed themselves to him ]. "Did'ya miss me? I'm much fitter'n any of the men around here. They've never held swords in their life - isn't that weird? Pens and paintbrushes and- fucking- fucking lutes and shit, fuck's sake..."
