Although the last magician on the continent of Agoling was burned by the Inquisition eight hundred years ago, its inhabitants still encounter manifestations of supernatural powers from time to time.
For Deirdre Drien, the daughter of Baron Drien, th...
The afternoon sun finally peeked out from behind the clouds, casting a molten golden glow over the castle courtyard. Deirdre stood by the window in her room, staring fixedly at the gate leading to the city.
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The quiet and timid whispering had long since grown into an intrusive hum that made her ears ring unpleasantly.
The Baron is almost here.
The Baron was able to arrive much earlier than scheduled.
The Baron is about to drive through this very gate...
...Damn him, this baron!
"My Lady, you might consider freshening up before heading downstairs to greet His Grace in person... "
"No need," Deirdre cut the maid off. Her lips curled up in contempt, and Nan didn't even need to see it to know for sure that her mistress's gaze was so icy that could have churned milk.
"Who knows, maybe the baron will turn out to be handsome, and you will find real happiness with him... "
"Do you know where Will the Limp is now?" and the maid finally honored with a quick glance over the shoulder.
"Lord An Gright is celebrating your engagement at the 'Old Sun'..." Nan frowned. "Or he's drowning his sorrows. To be honest, I can't understand this man at all. Sometimes I even think he's off one's rocker. I'm sorry, Your Grace"
Deirdre hummed slightly. Good old Nan, as always, is frighteningly close to the truth, even if she doesn't realize it.
"In the 'Old Sun', then? Well, at least it's far enough away from the castle that he'd have time to do something drunk, like throw himself under the hooves of the baron's horse. Although, perhaps, that would be a very amusing twist of fate..."
The noise in the courtyard distracted Deirdre from her thoughts.
Judging by the reaction of the servants, the baron had arrived, as promised.
However, only a small group of horsemen entered the gate, looking much more like bandits who had been treated harshly on the long journey than a nobleman from Eldra and his escort. Among the others, a stocky fellow with red hair and a beard stood out especially brightly. Square and clumsy, even from a distance he looked more like a peasant's son than a man of noble blood, although his outfit looked the most expensive of the dozen.
As if sensing her gaze, the redheaded man reined in his horse and raised his head, staring directly at Deirdre.
An unpleasant chill ran through the girl's body, causing her to wince and wrap her arms around her shoulders.
The rider smiled and lowered his head, continuing on his way.
A sharp knock on the door made Deirdre jerk. However, it was only the maid.
