Chapter 3
Cillian shaded his eyes, looking up at the fresh mortar on the sides of his manor. The shutters had a new coat of paint, the windows had been repaired, and the roof had been re-thatched. The sun reflected off the white-washed walls with a blinding light. Weeds and vines no longer invaded the lawn or his manor.
His manor. He liked the sound of that. Although he had almost nothing left of his inheritance, Cillian had something substantial.
“It looks much better than it did when we first arrived this summer,” King Malo said over Cillian’s shoulder.
Cillian leaned back against the king and the monarch draped an arm over his chest.
“You could have burned the blasted thing to the ground and it would have looked better,” Beyta said, sitting on her horse a few feet away.
Cillian ch
