7
Basileus led me along the veranda as the setting sun played as background to our stroll. His face took on a contemplative expression as we passed through one beautiful grotto after another.
“Eric Haldor is a very… complicated figure,” he mused as he clasped his hands behind his back. “Many call him the Lone Wolf because of his desire, even for his kind, to seek refuge in solitude.”
I lifted an eyebrow. “Have you known him for very long?”
Basileus inclined his head. “Yes. Most of my undead existence, in fact. We met in Paris a very long time ago. It was at the opera. I recall it was during the winter, as the operas could not be performed in the heat of the summer before you ingenious humans invented air conditioning.”
I snorted. “I have a hard time imagining him being at the
