Serle Otker felt like he'd lived and died a dozen lives in the last day alone.
Last night, he'd accumulated enough red in his ledgers that he was still searching for a way to balance the scales before it was too late. Attempting to sell Owain his support had been a disastrous miscalculation. It might be survivable, but he'd miscalculated again when he ordered his knights to protect him from the dark tendrils that seemed to leach the life out of a person to strengthen Owain Lothian.
He was lucky that Sir Ollie had been able to save Melsinde, though she'd been more subdued ever since her ordeal. Serle tried to mark that part down as a wash; Lady Ashlynn had promised to bestow a miracle on the victims of the Lothian throne, so Melsinde should recover from what had happened to her but… His choice to guard himself while she struggled against the darkness alone had accumulated even more red in his ledger.
