Adrian walked along the stables of Silver Fist, brushing the occasional horse’s nose and enjoying the warmth of the building. No matter how well constructed the keep was, there wasn’t really a way to keep the building completely warm. There was always a little bit of a draft somewhere, or just the fire wasn’t never quite big enough for the space of the room.
Sure, there were exceptions, the great hall or his offices and bedroom. He’d protested, but his staff and the people th...
