Dael knew from the whispering in the halls, the sudden scattering of servants, heads bowed, that the master and mistress were about, and only special servants could look upon them.
But the old man - Tertius - dragged Dael up, up, up to the main chamber where the master and mistress stayed. He shoved Dael to his knees in front of a wide stone bench, and Dael bowed his head. He heard the whisper of robes, the familiar cadence of a soldier’s boots.
And then a familiar voice said, in Dael’s own tongue,
“What do you think, Flavia? Did I choose well?”
No comments:
Post a Comment