Richard Hunter was a strict man. He walked as regally as he could, hiding his bad leg. The one that could not take away from his grace. He walked into the room and the servants got uneasy. My father wore a frown and I pushed away from my seat in discomfort.
Would he see?
He stopped before me with an inscrutable look. “You look very well for a captive.” His brows pulled up in question. I swallowed. Only my grandfather would say such a thing upon meeting with me after a long time. He seemed disappointed even to see me. Where was the happiness? He believed the beasts to be evil. He should be singing praises to god that I was alive in one piece and not asking such questions.
“Not pleased to see me, Grandfather?” I asked. I hoped my voice was not suspicious. I hoped he did not hear the
