I wipe the sweat off my brow and continue to shove hay in the horse stables. The sun is setting and I am just ready to be over with this for the day. My body aches but I’m used to it. I don’t even look but I can feel someone’s presence. Not even looking up as I’m shoving hay, annoyed by their presence. I say in a cold and distant tone. What’s your business in the stables? The king sent you? I’m quite busy.
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