One can never trust witches, especially in conjunction with closets…
“Hello, my dear,” Ayla said as she walked into Kira’s room, interrupting the warrior at her work. The sound of steel on stone stopped abruptly as Kira cast a curious look at the witch.
Ayla had left Nive chortling with glee at the prospect of her father’s invasion and returned to the tower to attend to more important matters. She seemed taller than before, holding herself erect and proud as she flashed a smile at the warrior who was sitting on a stool, polishing a blade.
“You’re in a good mood,” Kira noted.