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... et corner against the high colosseum wall. The noise of the stands was a distant roar. He pressed his palm against the rough stone and closed his eyes. Tiredness pulled at his limbs, but sleep would not come. Instead, an old voice echoed behind his lids.

This 𝓬ontent is taken from fгeewebnovёl.co𝙢.

He saw her: a girl without a name. In his memory she was as real as the torch in his hand — a scruffy commoner with dirt-stained hands and eyes that would not bow. He remembered the he ...

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