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Chapter 6: Across the Antlantic
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Chapter 8: The Lion’s Den
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... ight bathing him in a pale, forgiving glow. The last remnants of winter had melted away, and the air smelled faintly of wet earth and new blossoms.
The world seemed caught between two seasons. The streets were damp from a morning drizzle, the cobblestones reflecting the pale light. Children splashed through puddles with laughter while a group of soldiers in gray-black uniforms marched past, boots striking sharp against the ground. It was May.
Paul stood at the same place, the sam ...
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