"He seems nothing like you, really.” Zena said, one morning, spooning Puls into her mouth and eyeing the other two women with the same sort of contempt she usually used. “But who am I to say anything.” She flicked a well-cooked weevil out of the grain, scowling. “The whole Empire seems to be on the decline when you are in a place like this.” Iain sighed, finishing his own porridge and wine.
基于1个网页-相关网页
应用推荐