MARTINmoved soundlessly. The air was cold and heavy, and smelled of earth and worms and mold. The sound was just the sea, echoing endlessly through the caverns beneath the castle, rising and falling with each wave. An emerald the size of a pigeon's egg hung on a golden chain about her neck.
It's a wench. The boy took to his heels, plunging headlong back the way he'd come. Wave at the smallfolk and give them a tale to tell their children. She rested her hands on the carved stone balustrade and made herself peer over the edge.
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