Etien furrowed his brows. He hadn't expected Glen to sneak out that much food with him when they decided to leave Duke Elias Mason's luxurious mansion. Still, even more shocking than that was this mother and child in front of him. How the hell had they managed to survive in this kind of hunger, while the entire region was out celebrating one of the biggest harvests in years?
His gaze swept around the tiny house. It had only one room, no doors, just open space.
The place was a wreck. Wooden walls barely holding up, the roof riddled with holes. Anyone could tell: when the rain poured, this family had to scramble for cover. And at night, nothing stopped the cold from creeping in with the wind. In the warmest corner near a tiny hearth, where only glowing embers remained, sat a mother and her son, just eight years old.
