"This is Abigail," Artemus told the blond as he helped her take off her boots. The anti mage had left Abigail with some nuns so they could properly bathe and clothe her after the journey she'd endured with a group of men. "I have to find her relatives if she has any left."
"How old is Abigail?" Rowan asked as he smiled at the polite child.
"I don't know. How old are you?" Artemus asked her.
"Eight years old," she answered in a very quiet voice.
"A brave eight-year-old girl," Artemus praised her. "Are you hungry?"
She shook her head. Her hair had been washed and dried thoroughly and Artemus could finally see the chestnut undertones of her wavy blonde locks.
"I've got some snacks," Rowan offered. "You don't have to feel hungry to snack."
"You keep snacks?" Artemus asked as if such an idea offended his narrative of the person that Rowan was.
I have good news + bad news. Stats show that this story isn't doing well at all. Not unexpected considering the dark tone it has taken. Subs have fallen this month and I've come to a decision. I am reducing the cost of the privilege chapters to 50 coins for everything but I'll also reduce updates even further. I apologise to the interested readers who have been so good to me. My book is a flop and I can't give it the attention I used to. :') C'est la vie. Maybe I'll do another light-hearted BL.