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Chapter 43Book 2: : Citrus
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... tal, Augustus Reginald Gormona shifted in his chair.
His usually comfy chair had felt hard and uninviting lately, as if it protested his very existence. The colorful light that bathed the room during the day had long departed, and with the darkness of night covering the land, the harsh glow of candles flickered. He straightened his posture, trying to reduce the ache in his lower back, then sighed.
“It’s useless...”
“Er—what is, my king?”
Augustus looked up, turnin ...
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