Jaegar was now on his way to Amnohdet, called the city of witches, in a train.
Seated in his compartment, he was gazing outside; his thoughts ran back to the things he heard from Pierre.
His grandfather's death, Jaegar had only met him once, but he could tell that man was wiser in his rule and held great admiration among his subjects. Jaegar observed on the streets that they were still people who grieved his death.
Jaegar wasn't the kind of man who could easily connect with the idea of family. He had always been distant from them, not out of choice but because it was the nature of their relationships.
His grandmother and half sister had been present in his life only on a few occasions. They seemed to care, or at least acted as though they did, but Jaegar could never be entirely sure.
Affection in his world was fleeting, uncertain, and layered with obligations and half-measures. He didn't trust it.
