The Disappearance of Winter's Daughter

“Same in Hintindar and Medford.”

Royce looked at the windows. “So, we still have a few hours if Villar sticks to the plan to catch all the nobles at the feast.”

“What are the odds of that?”

“At this point?” Royce scowled. “We should hurry.”

Hadrian agreed but was disappointed. “We should come back here. I’d love to look through this place.”

“Absolutely not,” Royce said. “We are never coming back.”

“Be careful,” Hadrian warned him. “My father used to tell me: Never say never on any endeavor; it sounds like a dare to gods that don’t care. If the likes of us prosper, fail, or falter; it matters not while they roll with laughter on an altar, at our miserable, sad little lives.”

Royce looked over and smiled. “I think I would have liked your father.”

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