Miss Tasmin, Since we are eventually to be married, and now that I have set forth on my own in order to secure our future, I suppose that it is my duty, as well, to get to know my intended a little more than I do now. So I have taken it into my head to write to you, and it is my hope that you will reply to my missives as best you may; the letters, and my receiving of yours, may be a bit sporadic since I will be at sea a great deal of the time, but it is better than nothing at all. Now, if memory serves me, it is near the day of your birth, and since, again, if memory serves, you are soon to begin your seventh year, I have enclosed a doll. My sister-in-law-to-be favors this type a great deal, and so I believe that you might, as well. Yours, William *** Tasmin, William's wife-to-be, was chosen by a spell-as all civilized wives and husbands are chosen-when he was 7 and she was just an infant. Unfortunately, Tasmin is from the North, a place of magic and strange ritual, and William is from the South, where people pride themselves on being above that sort of thing. They ought to have been married when Tasmin turned 18, but William was a little tardy calling for his bride. That's all to the good in his family's opinion. Who wants a Hag for a daughter-in-law? Tasmin, on the other hand, would like to know what's keeping him. When he's framed for murdering his patron, Tasmin takes matters into her own hands, harnessing the wind to bring her to William's side. There, she plans to clear him of murder-and finally celebrate that wedding they've been planning. Assuming, that is, that William actually wants to marry her.
