The crown of bone was held in place by his pointed, dog-like ears. He had added a ring of rabbits’ fur to the collar of his purple cloak. Someone had done their best to sew and patch up the tatters on the bottom. His white shirt and trousers were freshly cleaned. Callid hovered behind him like a pup, both mouths hanging open in a dopey grin, his fat tongues lolling.
“I command an army, do I not? That is all being a king really requires.”
“You and I both know that isn’t true. You’...
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