[ Garrett ]
“Graceson.” The Royal decree from Prince Ethyn in hand I marched down the hall toward the ever milling Graceson. The guard didn’t hear me. He was speaking to someone. The other person was standing back; a spot where the wall dipped for an alcove. Whatever they were speaking about it had Graceson’s full attention.
Intuition tingled. I slowed my pace and softened my steps hoping to catch what was being said.
“... up, Hazin.” Graceson sounded aggravated.
“Just a bit longer. Come on, two weeks, two weeks is’t that long. We can make it!” The other person pleaded. Hazin I presumed.
“You said that last week! We are going to get caught.” Graceson griped. Yes they were, they were going to get caught right now. I knew there was something up with Graceson’s milling.
“Just stick w
