The Shepherdapos;s C

A grave, aged voice sounded from beyond the iron gates. It was a special intonation drawn out with length, the peculiar accent unique to the people of the capital city—elvish.,“But that’s because Master Evans is kind-hearted. When you were an hour late, I had already decided to call the Inspectorate. It was Master Evans who stopped me. He said we should always give people a chance...No matter what reason they have, they should at least meet first before making any decisions.”,He was clad in pure white fleece pajamas, looking as if he had just stepped out of the bath. His silken blond hair caught the warm glow of the hearth fire. He sat quietly and intently reading by the fire, his delicate features holding a gentle expression… reminding her of a poet, with the flames rising in their home fireplace.。