august-fehrmont

At last Drake Godfrey stood before me on the deck—infamous, conniving, massively wealthy monarch that he was—and I would have ripped the jewel-studded cane from his bony fingers and flogged him with it had I not been raised to know self-control. I had waited years to gaze upon the grand ruler of the Aeria, the man who had sent spies to my lands in the north, whose armies had ambushed my followers on their descent to the continent, who had orchestrated this fraud of an alliance with the Merian Kingdom. And here he was: a pathetic, pale, scrawny young man with a crippled leg and more golden chains on his person than I could count. Her