If Harrick Stenly hadn't died, none of this would have been happening.
And the funniest part was that he wouldn't have cared what happened to her if she had not rejected him at the market square.
Which was why his guilt took away his sleep.
Rays of dawn tore through the window. He had specifically refused to drink wine all through the night - he needed to think clearly so he could decide his next step.
There was a knock on the door.
He just knew who it was.
Andon.
"Come in."
The door creaked open.
His mouth dropped open at Yeren's disheveled appearance.
Yeren ignored his expression.
"What is it? Is it not too early for your counsel?"
Andon rubbed his brow.
"Your Grace," He firmed his shoulders before continuing. "My men are prepared to set out again on your orders."
Yeren tossed the quill he held loosely in his hand.
"I thought you said it wouldn't be wise to send our men - there would be a clash with Jarren's Deltas."
