Chapter 11
Astorre Manfredi was known to the world as an uncaring, rich, titled lord who did whatever he wanted.
He stared out the window that was a former arrow slit in his castle. The lord of the manor's bedroom had a small view but that was by design. As a boy his parents had wanted him safe so he hadn’t been allowed a room like this. He’d have to be stopped from climbing outside like countless ancestors probably had done.
The image of his mother cleaning his knee from a scrape replayed in his mind.
A cold sweat broke out on his body so he went and grabbed a shower.
The water helped clear his mind. Memories weren’t good to have. His stomach was still in a knot but it was bearable now.
He headed into his closet and picked out olive green pants his staff had left for him--the house
