| twerboart | Дата: Среда, 29.05.2013, 03:26 | Сообщение # 1 |
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| Another prince, I sense, but not the one — not the one.I can't be fooled out here, in the clean air, beneath the righteous sky.You are none of his.I do not often leave my rooms.But that time is long past.Things now are as they are, and I live only to curse him.Even in the near-boiling water, Attrebus still somehow felt cold.Sul and the Sathil's leech had both assured him he would keep his fingers and toes, but by the gods it didn't feel like it.The tub was portable, made of some sort of thick, oily hide on a wooden frame, and had been brought into his room.He hadn't seen who poured the water, but a kettle depended from a wooden arm steamed away near the fireplace.
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Sul sat on the corner of his bed.He wanted to separate us.
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Attrebus took a swallow.It hurt going down, but left a pleasant glow behind.Then why didn't he slough you down into the freezing cold?A daedra prince, from what I could gather.Others have been here before us, it seems.
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