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“Wh-wh-wh-wh-wh-wh-wh-wh-wha–huh?”
For the first time in her life, Neia Baraja could be assured that no one who saw her could possibly mistake her gaze for a nasty glare. That was because her eyes were so wide that she swore they would roll out of her skull and onto the desk.
“You can’t say you didn’t see this coming,” Gustav Montagnés, the Grandmaster of the Holy Order, told her. “We’ve approached you about this several times over the past three months.”
“But noth ...
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