Sir Gregory’s journal was as outdated as Jude’s family’s welcome in Rijk. Luch’s hooves clop-clopped with each step on the stoned road into the town. Gold lanterns hung at intervals on high golden poles lining the streets. The market was abuzz with traders, with the locals distinguishable by their clean, tight fitting clothing. Jude deflated his posture, noting his barbarian attire in comparison to the Sciorta townspeople.
Mae had worn regular trader’s clothing. He lo...