by Frank Tuttle
A thousand crowns, though. That's a lot of money, even in Rannit's booming post-War economy. A fellow could live quite well on a fraction of that.
Which meant someone high up at Avalante considered the threat of violence against the Regent quite real. Evis didn't seem to agree. But he hadn't blinked when I'd upped the ante, either, which meant his bosses had instructed him that money was no object.
“An even thousand crowns,” I said, aloud. Darla would be thrilled. We could put a new roof on our new place on Middling Lane. Hell, we could tear the house down to the last timber and build it back again with twice as many rooms and still have money left over.
If, that is, a fellow lived long enough to collect his shiny gold coins.
I pushed the thought aside, gathered up the empty bottles, and eventually followed Evis out into the bright and bustling light of day.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
