In previous years, the late-June sun over the Highland would be scorching, baking the southern lands.
But now, in mid-May, the temperature in Kolon had only just begun to warm. While thick woolen sweaters were no longer necessary, the drastic drop in temperature at night still kept people huddled around their hearths, reluctant to leave.
But no matter how reluctant he was to leave the warmth of the room, Ororen, having received word from his men, had no choice but to pull himself off his mistress. He slowly donned his Leather Armor and buckled on his Sword.
"Do you have to go so late? Can't it wait until morning?" his mistress, her pale skin exposed, complained.
Anyone would be displeased to be interrupted halfway through.
