Chapter • 89

♱ •⋅ 1750 B.C. ⋅• ♱ •⋅ Azrael ⋅• ♱

It still hurt.

I could still feel my back throbbing and my neck burning, but I still stood, my eyes fixed on the table as I waited for an answer.

"Commander..." the creature’s weak voice, which should not have been more than 100 years old, made me call and I had to force a smile as I lifted my gaze.

"What did the saint say?"

She opened her mouth, but then closed it.

"I knew," I thought. "The saint said nothing, it was Asra".

"Ahm..." the creature looked away, his face was thin, his body too fragile.

Asra had several maids, many of them were trained as well as the best of my men, but that child? She was obviously young. Was she one of the children she had employed in the tribute incident?

I sighed.

"Speak, I won’t blame you."

I couldn’t and probably the guilt made me be so kind, but that wasn’t something she would understand.

Her purple eyes shone with hope and she cleared her throat before speaking.

"The duchess said... I should inform you that the s