Roman Holiday

The queen was dead. The Empire was in mourning.

Coincidentally, Verrie Adelberry arrived, not too long after. The queen’s body had not yet grown cold. Verrie did not journey through the vastly spanning roads of the Empire, nor did they travel to the capital by any normal means. It was almost out of a myth. One second there was naught but empty air, and the next, Verrie was careening out of the sky as if they had been kicked from the heavens by the gods themselves.

Adorned in clothes that none had ever seen, with an accent none had ever heard, and nonsense spilling from their lips, it was no wonder why they were thrown at the widowed ruler’s feet and declared a murderer. For there was no other explanation for Verrie , with their strange name and even stranger mannerisms.— nor would there be for the bodies that begun to pile up after their arrival.

Unbeknownst to all, Verrie was no traveler, or god, murder, or anyone in this strange world of their own volition. They were from a modern age, and they would have to prove their innocence by finding the true culprit.

That was easier said than done considering that they were being held hostage deep in the bowels of the Imperator’s dungeon.

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