LORD REVANDREL
"The Southmill farmland has been fully cleared and is ready to be handed over," Squire Havlin was saying. "The Trawlstone family is proposing a lease for at least six full moons, and so far—"
I sat sideways in a chair carved for a royal magistrate, but now served better as a reluctant throne for my paperwork evasion, half-listening to Havlin’s report with my thoughts elsewhere.
And by elsewhere, I meant last night.
Yes, the memories had finally taken dominion where the blanks once reigned. Like scattered parchment drawn back together, the pieces had returned throughout the day.
As I visited my holdings and oversaw my ventures, they came one after another, and now, as Havlin rambled on, the final piece slid neatly into place.
And needless to say, I was not pleased. In
