Rebellion has a price. The lacy gold mapped her entire body. A finely wrought filigree of stars, vines, flowers, butterflies, ancient symbols and words ran from her feet, up her legs, over her narrow waist, spanned her chest and finished down her arms to the tips of her fingers. Born into a life of secrets and service, Chrysabelle's body bears the telltale marks of a comarré—a special race of h...