(Arlo)I head to the war room. Very pleased with my own timing.I walk its length slowly, my boots echoing over the tile, letting my presence settle in every crevice.The chair creaks as I pull one back. The one at the head of the table, of course, and drop into it like I own the place.Outside, I can hear the frantic murmurs from the courtyard. No doubt the ceremony is stalling, the priests fidgeting, Soren sweating through his collar. Good. Let him flounder.Moments later, the doors swing open and in comes Soren, looking every inch the man who knows he’s lost control. Cerelia follows two paces behind, pale and pristine, like she’s been carved from serenity itself.“King Arlo,” Soren begins, voice careful. “How would you like to proceed?”“I’ll let you know once I’ve spoken to your Luna.”Cerelia tilts her head. “I’m right here.”“I wasn’t referring to you.”Her mouth tightens and Soren clears his throat.“Hilda’s not-”“According to my records, she still is,” I interrupt. “And I’d
Last Updated : 2024-09-09 Read more