Chapter Thirteen- Back to the Roots

[noblewomanspage]

[There’s a thirteen year-old British boy sitting on a couch in the lobby, his legs pulled up to his chest and his journal sitting beside him. The clever little thing has already figured out how to use it.]

I'm bored. This is a magical castle, right? Shouldn't there be witches and fairies and the like?

[He shifts around a little before speaking into the journal again.]

Oh, right. Is my papa- [He clears his throat, trying to sound manlier.] Is John Chaucer here?

Comments

[squartatore]

As in outside outside, or the city?