Chapter 83: Gatekeepers
"Ah, roses. Did someone bathe in perfume?"
"What a nice scent. Like that rose water from the dungeon."
"Where are the gnomes? I need to buy more. My curtains need a sprinkling."
Marcellus couldn't believe his ears. People were speaking about rose water as if they wanted to buy a lot of it. Yet, he had not brought any with him.
He cursed in his mind. What a wasted opportunity.
His hair, normally rough and with just enough shine to it to be seen as clean, was now reflecting the sunlight and being ruffled by the slight breeze that was passing through the village.
Marcellus was glad that his hair was short, or, he was certain, that it would get in his eyes and mouth. It was soft as well. Mana did wonders, he had to admit.
The driver stopped the wagon before a stately house.