It was too painful to dwell on, so he did not. That did not stop the dreams from coming regardless.
The rest of Greeves' letter had come with harsher words. He declared in no uncertain terms that he too would be coming to Blackwell, whether he had to kill a string of nobles to get there. Again, Oliver found himself looking at Marianne as she read the merchant's curses aloud with an unflinching expression. He curled into himself, embarrassed even from a distance by the foul-mouthed merchant.
And so it went. Greeves swore to drag himself to Blackwell. He said he would finally have a piece of the market square there – a place nearer the top, as he called it. He swore to be a leech, when the time came for Beam to return to battle. He swore that he'd sell weaponry off it, and make a killing, for he knew who the victor would be, who would claim the most heads.
