9
Hugh gazed down at his plate and wrinkled his nose. Dinner consisted of a purplish meat and some kind of vegetable he could not identify. The meal smelled strange and didn’t look very appetizing. Neither did the strong spiced wine in his goblet.
The afternoon and evening had passed in a flurry of greetings, questions, and discussions that he could hardly wrap his mind around. His eyes began to droop, and he nodded off.
“…since the Great Explosion,” someone was saying.
Hugh jerked awake and blinked at his father. “I’m sorry. What?”
“Rest,” Memnes suggested. “There’ll be time for more talk tomorrow, when your mother and sister arrive.”
Dale stood up. “Come. I’ll show you to your room.”
Hugh nodded and rose to his feet, feeling drained as he followed his brother through the stone cas
