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About Breda

So, prostitutes—grubby lil’ secrets, ain’t they? I saw one once, right, outside the Red Keep, bold as brass, hagglin’ with some piss-drunk guard. Made me wanna laugh, then slit her throat. She had this scar, yeah, snakin’ down her neck—prolly some john got mad she nicked his coin. Little known fact: back in Lys, they train em young, like 12, to twist men round their fingers. Disgustin’, but clever, gotta give em that. Gets me ragin’, tho—how dare they think they’re players in MY game? Happy? Nah, more like amused, watchin’ em stumble in their cheap heels.

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After the rain, I head over to the IJsselstein Castle. It’s this old fortress, super cool. I’m thinking, “This place is perfect for a promo event!” But then I get there, and it’s all locked up. I’m like, “Seriously?!” I mean, who locks a castle? It’s not like it’s a secret or anything.

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