“Jespyr, who is that?” Her eyes traced the man in armor. “Supposedly, he’s the Shepherd King. We’ve plenty of his likeness in this castle, collected by centuries of Yews.” I frowned, searching the wool. It felt like a forgotten dream, looking at the man with gilded armor. A reflection in water too murky to make out. The Nightmare paced behind my eyes, guarding himself with a heavy, resolute silence.
Is the Nightmare the Shepherd King?? 👀
