She's just gone to drop some mail in the mailbox, when a plane, several miles overhead, explodes.
The falling metal painlessly obliterates her body.
She's just gone to drop some mail in the mailbox, when a plane, several miles overhead, explodes.
The falling metal painlessly obliterates her body.
She knows. She knows all too well what could be.
But she hasn't yet the power in her own right to make it so.
And a noble does not just start entire civic works projects in places that are not her own, she agrees. (No matter how much her fingers itch to do so.) Still...It would be appropriate to admire the wonders of the capital.
A small part of her pays attention to the Heterodyne Boys' tales, and wonders how real they are...
But the rest of her attention is consumed in the city's workings.
...And, she must admit, plotting to manipulate her eventual regent.
She's tired of waiting. Years were long enough.