“Gertal,” Lyria asked as she hobbled back to her apothecary prison, blindfolded and reliant on the jailer for support and guidance, “can I ask you a favor?”
“You can ask,” the wolf replied. She felt the air tense, even though she couldn’t see. She suspected it was the presence of the guard wolves, who had yet to speak to her. They gave her chills, and when they had touched her to guide her up the stairs, it was all she could do not to pull away.
“It’s just that, in all truth, I’m bored. I don’t know what is going to happen to me…” she let that implication hang in the air, because after that meeting with King Orveil, she knew that everyone knew what was going to happen to her. Or at least, what King Orveil had planned for her. “But right now, it’s hard to sit all day. That’s why I was run
