Thamarav town’s Urigge was not a man but a woman, a witch, I found out. She was in her late thirties with yellow hair, pale diamond-shaped face, small pointed nose, yellow-green eyes and pale lips.
The town’s head kneeled and bowed down in front of me as soon as she saw me seated at Bihlke’s side on the edge of the bed. She was lying in the bed unmoving.
“Your Highness!” the female magician exclaimed, gasping. Her two companions were taken aback at first, especially the last one who entered the room, the owner of the mikmalon. The three of them followed suit.
I glanced at Shamaro helplessly. He just shook his head, saying quietly that he didn’t reveal my identity when he asked for assistance. But then I stared at the witch before me.
“I hope you’ll make my visit a secret, Urigge,” I
