I crouched down before an old lady who hung around the gates of the field. I noticed her the moment we were driving into the field a few hours ago. She looked tattered. Her hair was messed up, her clothes were torn and dirty. Overall, she looked miserable. I wished I could help her, and now I think I could.
“Good day, ma’am,” I greeted, tilting my head to the side to get a better view of the lady’s face.
The lady raised her head and quickly dropped her head, holding her clothes really tight on her body. I knew she was not doing that because she knew I was a half-breed. She was doing it because she was scared. Though I wondered why.
“Ma’am,” I said with the most gentle voice I could muster, “Come in and have something to eat. Lord Baxton is feeding everyone with a light meal. Later, we w
