The general, the leader of thousands of Ilkhanat troops, stood looking at me. His eyes are as blue as the sea. His golden hair was full of gray. His body was tall with his eyelids protruding inside. He was sturdy wrapped in the typical clothes of the Mongol leader. Rows of ranks of gold pins enthroned on the right chest. The long sword tucked at his waist.
I walked slowly, bending my legs, crouching in front of him. I missed the figure in front of me.
"Father ..." The sentence that came out of my mouth was half inaudible.
But Robert Eracles captured all the turmoil in it.
"I'm not your father. I'm Robert Eracles, General of the Ilkhanat army," he said coldly.
"Forgive your child," I said softly.
Robert Eracles explodes. "My child is dead! You are a trai
