09/02/2026 07:13

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Not the chaos of a fight, because no one was in the first room, but the chaos of trying to shuffle behind the shield and not trip or trip someone else. I was used to walking scenes with Dolph, who made Douglas look petite. Not loud, but tears, real tears. I had to ball the black silk robe up over one arm to keep from tripping over it.

I saw his father like an older clone of Richard himself, and most of his brothers, sitting at the table, passing a blue bowl. He moved past me, and his chest was so muscle-bound that it looked like there wasn't room for all of us and his upper body to stand on that small landing. And Nathaniel's voice screamed with me, our hands convulsing around each other, our nails biting into each other's skin. On the deep brown, you couldn't see it.