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... ned and they were quiet as chickens. In the stationmaster’s office on the top floor, middlemen with large stomachs were slapping their desks and swearing.


“What about your brain? Did you really take Marshal Shen En and the Count to Marshal Dewitt? Sendo, why did I find you so capable before? Did I ever authorize you to do so? Now you’ve stuck your neck out and you’ve buried yourself in shit, all the fucking energy stations are paying for it. Now the Prime Minister’s letters are coming ...

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“Now… where should I put you both?” he asked casually, not expecting a reply. “It’s regretful that I only have one chandelier.”

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