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Summary
“You have followed me almost since I arrived,” she said. It was not a question. “You are not quiet enough to be my shadow and too unkempt to be subtle. Were we in the city above, the Watch or the Fist would cart you away, assuming you were just another impoverished orphan.” She paused, considering. “Which, I suppose, is not entirely inaccurate.”
Orin bristled, pulling her arm out of the butler’s bony grasp. “They would not. I can be anyone, anything I want.”
The older girl raised her eyebrows. “Show me, then.”
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A story of Orin the Red, her sister Elegy, and the tragedy that befalls all children of Bhaal.Series
- Part 4 of death and politics
