Begoña Caamaño

Sample

Now that my Lord Merlin sleeps peacefully beside his knowledge and his seven areas of the complexity of education, and while I still have the memories fresh in my mind, perhaps the time has come when I can finally talk about what happened, long ago in Miranda, about which I was always forbidden to speak. I don’t think my story could harm my master in any way now. He’s sleeping so soundly that none of us is certain whether he’s dead or resting, because every day that passes his white locks mingle more with the frost covering the bark of the old oak he went to lean against when he decided to retire in search of rest. It’s getting harder and harder now to tell where the human locks end and where the frost on the tree begins.

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