Roman

Lucille’s voice was a melody, lifting my spirits and reminding me why I was still in Molave.

“My prince. Is the news true? Are you well, and did you fight off an unknown assailant?”

“I’m well,” I answered, looking down at my bandaged hand. “The gunshot was through my arm. I’ll be sore for a while. As long as they keep the infection away, I’ll be fine.”

“Is that all?”

“My hand,” I said with a ...