Perched in a low swung tree branch, the Fool watches the man by the lake. It's an intent and curious stare, like he's never seen someone of his like before.
Tiberias is an observant enough man to know that he is being watched. He does not yet, however, divert his gaze. He keeps his eyes fixed on some point on the horizon. (One of his hands, however, strays to the hilt of his sword.)
There is a girl sitting not far away whose modest western clothes and her dark skin mark her as Arab by descent and Muslim by faith, but enmeshed in western culture by location, the legs of her jeans rolled up to her knees so her toes can brush the water. She's also wearing a shayla veil over her hair, head bowed as she pretends to read.
She's finding Tiberias more interesting by far than her textbook.
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She's finding Tiberias more interesting by far than her textbook.
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Long live the King.
(there will be a day when you will wish you had done a little evil to do a greater good)
He doesn't doubt it, but that was never the point.
(or is it)
He didn't expect to see Tiberius here, and so Balian stops, a little awkward.
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