Chapter 813
- #Your eyes are a molten river of gold, promising riches and a fiery death# I sang to her softly in Old Kingdom Hittite. It was original poetry.
- "What was that?" she smiled.
- "I'm not sure I can tell you," I stifled a yawn. "This whole translation thing wasn't explained to me. I can tell you it was a line of a love poem I created only for you."