He told himself to stop being such a fool and went to open the door. Bröndulfr was on the other side, his expression slightly concerned. “The master wants to know if you’re done?” Bröndulfr asked, and Vasilios nodded, picking up his bag. “Yes, I’m ready.” “Are you all right?” Bröndulfr asked as Vasilios followed him out into the hall. “I saw you bolt out of the blue receiving room earlier like you were being pursued by restless spirits.” “I’m fine.” Vasilios looked away, not wanting to talk about it, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw Bröndulfr shrug his large shoulders. “All right, then.” They went down the hall toward the front entrance where Markos stood talking quietly to one of the house guards. When he looked up and turned toward them, Vasilios bowed low, and kept his eyes firmly down. “I’m ready whenever you are, my lord General.” “Good.” Markos’s voice still lacked its usual warmth. “We should be going, then.” Vasilios pulled his scarf up over his head.
