Wilmore spread on a chair in his chamber, recollecting his memories. He grinned. Luna appreciated him, he was the first man who kissed her lips. It was as pleasant as a sweet fruit that dropped down from the heavens.
"Your grace, we brought him."
Natasha called out, the prince ordered them to fix Harold and bring him to his chamber after lunch, clean and sober.
"Get in," she put his right leg on the left one, his eyes on the door.
They arrived inside, the siblings and Eliot brought him without shackles on his hands. Harold wasn't sure what Wilmore wanted to do with him. Due to law, he must have been executed across people's eyes. He saw how people had him slaying them mercilessly.
"Natasha, close the door."
She used her legs and slammed the door back, she was upset with everyone who allowed Harold to live one more day, him, who caused many disasters.
