Man of War – Excerpt No. 130

“I will not be swayed by your venom,” Marc said. “The sands of time are slipping through the hourglass…”

There was a long pause until one of the ladies grabbed her shoulder. Just like the Steward, she was like a storm that broke apart before a drop of rain fell to the ground. He never realised how alike these two were.  I wonder if that explains why the sheets were always immaculate

“Well,” Marc said. “That was fun.”

“It was, my lord,” Bertrand said. 

A dark storm cloud forms above the head a Rotund Countess with grey hair surrounded by her female servants. Background and clothing appropriate to 16th Century France.

Disclaimer: This excerpt from Man of War is currently in development. There may be typos, errors, omissions, inconsistencies and so forth.


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