"And there we have it," Nichol says. "If you all work hard—and in a few cases, harder—in a few days, we'll have a play."
You're on your way out after the rehearsal when Diar calls out to you, "Hey, Osberht, can you wait a minute?"
"Sure." You pause in the courtyard, waiting for Diar to go back and get her cloak. The night has turned chilly even though it's spring, and there's a definite fog rising. You shiver.
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