"How has military command been working out for you?" Alpheo asked, his black armor clinking with each step as they walked through the halls of Artalerita's keep
"Incredibly weary and not the least bit pleasant," Jarza admitted, his eyes scanning the surroundings.
Most of the decorations had remained untouched, and still in place. Even much of the palace staff had been left as they were, an unusual state of affairs, given that the court of a captured city was often the first target of a sack.
Normally, such halls would be stripped bare for gold, jewels, and silks, and their women spirited away before the dust had even settled.
This time, though, there had been no chance.
The operation had moved too quickly, and priorities lay elsewhere. At least the palace was not yet reduced to a hollowed ruin, which would have been quite uncomfortable to stay in . Still, Alpheo had wasted no time replacing key staff.
