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Chapter 32: The Most Beautiful Morning Of My Life
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... man cloaked in darkness, his presence both regal and foreboding.
’Well. That’s certainly dramatic.’
A long cape spilled from his shoulders, its edges frayed as though eaten by shadow itself—or, more likely, by whatever rat-infested storage chest Lira had pulled it from. Beneath it, layers of black and deep gray fabric draped around him in the manner of a traveler’s garb that had been reforged for war. His high-collared cloak fastened at the neck with a tarnished clasp shaped lik ...
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