Shackleton Fitz IV was back in his father"s office on Buennagel for the first time in half a decade, and it hadn"t changed a bit.
And it really should have. Or it should feel different because he was different. But it didn"t.
He still felt incredibly small. Like his feet didn"t quite touch the floor as he sat deep inside the leathery embrace of the chair that was always positioned across from his father"s own at the massive stone desk.
Yes, stone. It came up out of the floor, emerging from the flagstones like some sort of monster out of a primordial ooze. The surface was a computer screen, of course, but the privacy settings didn"t allow Fitz on the other side of the desk to see any of it. From where he sat, it looked like his father was just very interested in the patterns of the stone
