“For my fox ancestors, I thought being the king's escort would be much more entertaining. I swear I will never complain about my exhausting daily training again... I will love fencing, and I might even hum the hunters' oath,” declared Duncan, sitting on the floor of the tent in a corner. He felt that boredom and hunger were killing him, especially since he had just seen the tailor's workers passing by with tea and pastries. It was four in the afternoon, and he hadn’t even been offered leftovers.
If they were going to have tea, that meant the visit would last at least until closing time. Occasionally, people entered to look at the fabrics and were attended by the workers, but Duncan completely ignored them. However, on this occasion, one of the workers approached him, and he could sense a
