Forty:
Crimson Ashland
I woke up gasping for breath. “Crimson,” someone was calling my name, “Crimson.” My head was foggy, and the room was spinning. My vision blurred. I blinked, trying to make my vision come into focus. As everything centered, I found myself in a bright, golden tent. I was on a bed. Around me, there were familiar faces. Faces that I didn’t even expect to have seen around me.
The first who came into focus was Zaan and his mother, Olivia. It had been Zaan’s voice that I realized was calling me. He stared at me with wide, worried eyes. He was always watching. Always concerned.
Then there was Catesby. Looking regal as ever, despite being bastard born. And The High Priestess, who was especially concerned. Raoul was nowhere to be seen. Which was for the bes
