Andromeda studied Erro’s face as they rode in sideways glances through the shield of her hair. He seemed unsure what expression to wear. Mostly he stared straight ahead, his face blank, perhaps a little thoughtful. Every now and then she caught a small smile at something the others had said as they chatted casually. More often she caught a glimpse of a row of three thin lines between his eyes.
“We should have brought Cook along,” said Andrew. “I feel as though I haven’t had a decent meal in ages.”
“I would like to try what a prince calls a decent meal,”...
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