Amates 20, 1277. Evening. In the middle of way too much trouble.
It was getting to be a very long night.
The baron gestured to the white canvas cot behind me before he reached for the sole chair in the tent.
“Please, have a seat.”
I scowled and stayed right where I was.
Lord Marius hesitated, then shrugged.
“Or we can stand, if you prefer.” He clasped his hands behind his back while he considered me for a moment. “Well, now you have a piece of the Automatic Crystal, and most of...
Published on June 20, 2022 23:30