Sitting on his desk, Royle tucked one hand under his cheek and threw up a small pouch with his other. He caught it deftly in midair, feeling the weight of the contents bumping and clicking together.
Should he open it?
He had found it sitting on Misa’s bed after she’d left him in the cadets’ dormitory. It was the same pouch she always tied to her belt—the one that contained her loncs. He had wanted to return it to her but had thought better of it when he couldn’t hear the telltale jingle of coins. Whatever was inside, she likely wouldn’t need it in her time in Harthem.
So, here he was. Sitting on his desk, ignoring the scattered paperwork on the surface and playing catch with Misa’s pouch, pondering if he should take a peek. He must have lost it. It wasn’t like him to be
