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The ailing king broke into a rotting grin “Master Kell,” he said “You’ve kept ”

“Noforward

King George squinted his blind eyes “It’s been longer, I’m sure”

“I promise, it hasn’t”

“Maybe not for you,” said the king “But time isn’t the same for the mad and the blind”

Kell sood form today It wasn’t always so He was never sure what state he’d find his majesty in Perhaps it had seemed likehad been in one of hisnerves long enough to deliver his e

“Maybe it’s the year that has changed,” continued the king, “and not the month”

“Ah, but the year is the same”

“And what year is that?”

Kell’s brow furrowed “Eighteen nineteen,” he said

A cloud passed across King George’s face, and then he simply shook his head and said, “Ti “Sit, sit,” he added, gesturing at the room “There must be another chair here somewhere”

There wasn’t The rooly sparse, and Kell was certain the doors in the hall were locked and unlocked from without, not within

The king held out a gnarled hand They’d taken away his rings, to keep hi

“My letter,” he said, and for an instant Kell saw a glial

Kell patted the pockets of his coat and realized he’d forgotten to take the notes out before changing He shrugged out of the jacket and returned it for a h its folds until he found the envelope When he pressed it into the king’s hand, the latter fondled it and caressed the wax seal—the red throne’s eht the paper to his nose and inhaled

“Roses,” he said wistfully

He ic Kell never noticed the faint aro to his clothes, but whenever he traveled, someone invariably told him that he smelled like freshly cut flowers Soazers Chrysantheland, it was always roses Kell was glad to knoas a pleasant scent, even if he couldn’t smell it He could smell Grey London (smoke) and White London (blood), but to him, Red London simply smelled like home