Letters from Armorica, 3 Novembre 33AF


Dear Journal,
The cat is now out of the bag, or at least his nose is peeking out of the mouth of the sack.
When we reached the hot springs this afternoon, Marc led me down a different path to a pool I had not seen before. It was provided with the usual wooden benches, and it was close enough to the place we usually bathed that we could hear the other men talking but far enough away that we could not make out their words. It looked just the spot for a private discussion, and I wondered what was on Marc’s mind. We hastened into the water, for the air was cold

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