Kosian silently ate the pan-fried piece of trout, glazed with a thick white sauce and garnished with beans and cabbage, sometimes taking a sip of water. He sat at the end of a large dining table, dressed in simple clothes, his black hair a mess and his eyes tired. On the other end, father didn’t look much better. Also dressed in small clothes, Geofroi Nocamius was a broad-shouldered man of middling height, his straight black hair and short beard, which were also a mess, showing long streaks of white. They had encountered each other yesterday when Kosian returned from the Jerma quarter. Taking a single look at him last night, father did not say anything. Which wasn’t that surprising. For eleven years now, he had become a quiet man, showing his emotions through the way he curled his eyebrows or set his face. That is if he wasn’t drinking into a stupor for half the night. It didn’t seem like he had done that last night though. Kosian made a half-smile. ‘He probably doesn’t want to appear drunk in front of the nobles’ he thought, remembering Jon mention that father would depart for the palace today as well.

Looking up from his food, Kosian noticed father watching him. He almost choked on his food, seeing those piercing eyes of his looking at him. Like he, father had light brown eyes, made to fit the gaze of a king. He honestly admired that in his father. A gaze that even made a noble fidget or flinch was something not every man could pull off. And now, he felt that experienced stare aimed at him. No matter the situation, that gaze always made him feel as stiff as a spear. The gaze always helped father make him do what he wanted. He used it extensively when encouraging Kosian to attend university. Father kept his gaze level for quite a while, but that piercing gaze held a hint of wondering in it. Of curiosity. Finally looking down and cutting, he suddenly said:

“I’m not one for fashion, but you looked well in that attire, son,”

“…Thank you,” Kosian said, barely keeping his eyes from popping. That came out of nowhere. Father was a traditionalist, hating the new styles of doublets or coats, preferring long, long-sleeved and knee-long tabards, thrown under sleeveless fur coats, which was the sign of a wealthy merchant.

“How was university? You wrote, but only to tell me you’re doing fine and are in no need of any help. I’m sorry if the lack of letters from me upset you. Things were… hectic, while you were gone.”

“…Uhh…It was fine, thank you for asking. I especially enjoyed my lectures on philosophy and law… What do you mean when you say ‘hectic’?

Father flinched at that but kept eating. After a breath of silence, he sighed, dabbing his cheek with a napkin.

“I… tried to console your mother,”

Kosians heart sank. ‘From his tone, I understand he wasn’t very successful’ he thought, as father kept going:

“It didn’t work. But…” he let out another sigh. A weary one. “I finally understood the state our family has fallen into. And I wish to fix it. I have already arranged for your mother to be taken into a monastery for the sick-minded. I’ve discussed it with her a few times, speaking through the doors, of course. You might not believe me, but she spoke to me. Heh…”

Kosian looked at his father, feeling sadness and confusion writhe on his face. He clenched his fork.

“What…” he sighed as well, trying to calm himself “What did she sound like?”

Father looked at him. That gentle and sad expression didn’t bond well with his face.

“Like a woman who hadn’t been herself for 10 years.” He said, chuckling silently. Taking a deep breath, father looked through the window out to the city. The first birds, returning from the east, were making a nest in the tree of their courtyard. Father longingly looked at them, watching the more colourful male tweet its song. Sighing, he turned back to Kosian. “Matremions daughter has come of age recently. She will be attending the congress today in her ailing father’s stead… We will go as well. I would like you to meet her.”

Kosian looked at his father. He knew what he meant when he said he wanted him to meet her. He had honestly never thought of it. Him? Getting married?! That and everything else he said was honestly shocking. Father?! Talking to mother? He felt his hunger fade away as all of these things swirled in his head. Without even thinking about it, Kosian nodded, scratching his head in bewilderment. He couldn’t believe the fact that father had made such a recovery. After Pietre, he was a mess, sometimes wailing in his arms on how he doomed him just because he didn’t give Maximien some star damned woollens. Looking at father, Kosian mused to himself silently.

“People really can change,”

In an hour, the two of them sat in a carriage, which plotted along the Kings street towards the Royal Palace. Kosian pried open the tight collar of his doublet. He was thankful father allowed him to dress the way he wanted, but his standards for decorum got on his nerves. Turning from the blinded carriage window, his gaze landed on father. Dressed in that classic sleeveless fur coat and a wide-brimmed hat, that was puffed out and slashed, he was the epitome of a wealthy merchant. A simple vest, which also went down to his tight covered knees was worn over a simple long-sleeved tunic with braided sleeve ends. Rings, both silver and gold, adorned his fingers and a golden chain, held by two golden brooches adorned the coat. Kosian looked at them, then glanced at his signet ring. He liked rings. But for a different purpose to just fashion sense. The heavy knucklers, which he felt in a secret pocket in his doublet, made him remember his first fight in Jerma. He still remembered that muggers face, both before and after. The ring was a handy thing then, as blood dripped from its signet.

As Kosian chuckled softly, remembering that one night he and his student friends stole back their purses, the carriage suddenly stopped, and the door was opened wide. Father grunted, cracking his fingers, stood and walked out. Kosian followed him.

As he took his first step out, Kosian was forced to look up in awe. The Biturg castle always seemed smaller than the rest of the city, with its white tiled towers, large abbeys and halls. From afar, it always looked more like a messy amalgamation of buildings than the home of the king. But standing in the middle of it, no, just at the entrance of it, Kosian felt his breath disappear.

Smithies, houses and stables stretched through the small courtyard, which separated the first and second gates, each building almost being built on top of the other due to the sudden and steep incline, which was even reinforced with old mossy stones. The main road led up to the second gate, atop the steep hill, winding through the steepness. The courtyard itself was, of course, surrounded by wide, one helosai tall walls, made of that coloured limestone, towers both round and square lining it in unequal spacing. Kosian kept staring, as he followed father and the other merchants who had arrived up the hill, towards the second gate.

As they passed that, Kosian was greeted with the sound of steel clashing against steel. This courtyard, larger than the other, was, interestingly, filled with two or one-storied tall houses, not too different to those in the rest of the city. But still, the heavy looking iron bars latched onto every window and the great stone foundations were hard to miss. Besides the houses, there was also a great field. Passing, Kosian could see men sparring against each other with swords, shooting bows, learning formations. Only then did he finally understand where he was.

“The famed White Barracks,” Kosian thought. He finally understood that he stood in the middle of the single largest military academy in Galfria. It made him nervous.

“Enjoying the show?” father asked grimly. Kosian shook his head, still looking at the soldiers.

“Forgive me, father. I… I just never thought…” he gulped. And chuckled “I remember how I and my friends used to dream of how we would train here.”

Father harrumphed at that. He did not like war, being the son of a war veteran and forced to learn the craft. Kosian remembered Jon once telling him that the single-edged sword that hung on a mantle in the main dining hall was the same father had used to win against a fully anointed centaur knight! Looking at him now, with his back slightly hunched, speaking to a man from the Weavers Guild about the lack of imports from Lunde, Kosian could barely believe it.

As the gathering of merchants slowly passed the barrack grounds, being escorted by an entourage of handmaidens, secretaries and fifteen soldiers, Kosian felt himself getting a bit stuffy. Making sure father was fully immersed in his talk, he carefully unbuttoned his collar, briefing in slowly. As he did so, he heard slight giggling from behind him. Turning around, Kosian noticed a small group of ladies, both old and young. All were dressed similarly – single piece dresses, tight around the waist but loose around the hips and bosom, all reaching their ankles, were covered by short tabards, each embroidered either gold, blue, green, black or red. Though most women had their hair tied in short braids, which ended with loose curly hair or covered their hair completely by simple white caps called cofs, which went down to their necks, some did wear their hair loose, keeping them tidy by metal clips or moving them away. Kosian looked at them for a little while longer, making the giggling women look at him uncomfortably, before turning around. He was never good at dealing with women. Most he had met were akin to hurricanes, who expected everything around them to be exactly how they wanted them to be. He remembered father once saying that that was the great allure of women. Well, if that was it, then Kosian would never be able to understand women. He enjoyed a bit of chaos, unpredictability. It made life fun.

As they passed the final gates, the Silver Stallion of Bollardia in its beige field flapping on banners hanging proudly from towers, they walked up along the drawbridges. Passing through the opened portcullis of the gate, Kosian was finally greeted with the sight of the main castle complex. A large courtyard divided two parts of the castle, one a smaller and one a larger one, which then came together at the end of the courtyard. The courtyard itself held many small houses, which seemed glued to the walls of the castles. Servants, cooks, soldiers, knights, nobles and even centaurs walked around the courtyard with a sense of purpose, seeming like they would trample you if you got in the way. Their guide, a hard-faced man, turned the group to the left, towards a large set of doors, which led into one of the halls of the main castle. As they walked, Kosian could see centaurs and knights, riding their aigions, sparring a large tourney ground, at the other end of the courtyard. He also saw white-robed inquisitors, shuffling their way towards the castle abbey. Seeing them, Kosian almost held in the urge to spit.

The castle itself truly did look spectacular. Among the limestone walls, Kosian could see marble colonnades and bricks. Like most cities in Westen Evea, Baye was, at first, a Phoenixian settlement. The Market even had well-preserved fountains and floor frescoes from those times. And the castle was no exception. Passing a wide corridor, whose walls were adorned by beautiful frescoes, they entered a large hall. It was huge, holding a large half-moon stand, adorned by pillows and was topped by a great dome of a roof. Kosian remembered reading that the phoenixians always had their assemblies in so-called Testudines – buildings with signature domes for roofs. He smiled, thinking about the fact that what he was walking on was probably the oldest building in the entire city.

Passing the large hall into a side corridor, all the merchants were led up a set of stairs, which led up to the second floor of the hall. The wooden floor seemed to seamlessly connect to the collonaded round walls of the hall. A large circular opening allowed the sitting merchants to see down into the main assembly – a circular shaped, carpet covered floor, flanked on all sides by stone cut seats, all of which rose to three levels. Red pillows signified the sitting place. In the middle of the circular floor was a single wooden stool, gilded with gold and with a masterfully made beige and gold pillow. ‘The King's seat,’ Kosian assumed.

Suddenly, the whispering and talking among the merchants died down, as everyone rose. Opening the large doors at the end of the room, two royal guards, men dressed in painted white and beige armour, let in a procession of lords and ladies. Each took a seat on the stone steps, with the smallest nobles sitting at the top, while the representatives of the major houses took their seats on the first steps. Even the six Centaur lords took their places in the gap between the stairs. As any galfrian, Kosian held centaurs in high renown. After all, they were the closest descendants to the mythical horse – the father of the dogs, cats, aigions and all other animals, in service to the Seven races. Lowering their large lower halves onto the prepared cushions, the centaurs sat eye level to the nobles on the first steps. Looking down, Kosian didn’t see anything he hadn’t seen or didn’t expect to see – men, dressed in tight-fitting britches and coloured tights, with masterfully tailored boots, gold-embroidered doublets or tabards and short shoulder cloaks, women dressed similarly to the merchant ladies, though most wore the colours of their house and the dressed in general seemed much more well-made, some, Kosian reckoned, even made of silk.

As the nobles took their seats, a tense silence filled the room. Kosian could even hear his heartbeat. It felt… eerie. Finally, a set of doors on the opposite side of the room opened. A group of six royal guards walked out, their halberds at the ready. And following them was the king of Bollardia, lord of Baye and Protector of the Realm, King Henri II Olean of Bollardia. Kosian took a good look at the man without moving an inch. Strangely, he reminded him of father – a stark and stern, broad-shouldered man, with straw blonde beard and curly hair, which flowed from under his crown. He was dressed in a tabard and baggy britches with tights, the tabard embroidered with the sigils of Bollardia and his house. On one side – the Silver Stallion of Bollardia in a checkered brown and white field, on the other – the arms of house Olean, with its two royal lilies and a horse. All in all – the exact sort of man Kosian expected him as. As any citizen of Baye, he revered and admired the king, but seeing that he was just a man... It made him feel strange. He remembered once seeing him when he was very young, during a procession after a royal hunt. He vividly remembered the great stag, which needed to be drawn by a large cart to move it through the city, but the king himself was more of a blur.

Coming up to the gilded stool, king Henri looked at the assembled men and women, before finally shouting:

“I call this 7th congress of the Kingdom of Bollardia to start!” his voice rang through the large hall, the voice of a king.

As the nobles and the merchants argued amongst each other, citing trade, raiding and other such reasons, Kosian calmly sat in his seat, staring at nothing in particular. His mind wasn’t filled with the fact that trade from Barconne or Septimara would be in jeopardy, or that the border lords would have to take the brunt of the raiding from the enemy before the campaigning season started. Instead, his mind was filled with thoughts of the talk with father this morning. He still couldn’t believe that he was trying to change. And so suddenly! But no. From the way he talked, it seemed like he had started these plans the moment Kosian left for university. That put a sour tone to the thoughts. ‘The snake was afraid I would disagree with him, so he sent me away!’ he thought, angrily. But all of this changed things. Fingering the knucklers in his secret pocket, Kosian grimaced. Everything was ready. He had made the preparations even before leaving for home. They were supposed to carry it out today! The main reason Kosian had turned to such drastic measures was that… well, it was because he just couldn’t live with it anymore. That guilt and anger over his inaction. His… stillness that day. But here he was, trying to cling to the past, while his parents were getting ready to let it go. It made him want to punch someone.

“Young sir Nocamius?”

Kosian jumped in his seat. ‘That was the king's voice’. The entire room had fallen quiet. Looking around, Kosian noticed the merchants, looking at him with pleading and hopeful eyes. The nobles kept whispering with each other, though a few turned their gazes towards him. Kosian stood, fixing his sleeveless fur coat and bowed to the king, who had addressed him.

“Forgive me, your great majesty, but I was engrossed in thought. May you be so gracious as to repeat your question?”

Some of the merchants gave him a disappointed look. Some a quizzical one. The few nobles who looked at him scoffed at the response. The king himself though seemed to smile.

“I had noticed you so. I wanted to ask if you would so kindly share your youthful thoughts about this problem we old crows have brought up. What is your opinion on us interfering in the wars that currently engulf Evea?”

Kosian gulped. Quickly turning to father, he noticed him smiling softly to him and nodding as if saying ‘Go ahead,' In truth, Kosian didn’t care about any of this. But he was put on the spot. He had to say something. Sighing in his mind and clearing his throat, Kosian started:

“If that is what you so desire, your gracious Majesty, then it will be my pleasure to share my thoughts. But I must warn you, they are sadly quite simple and frank, compared to the intricate arguments made by my fellow merchants and can’t even compare to the worries of the lords.”

“That is fine, my boy. You may proceed.” The king said. He seemed to smile at that.

“Well then, my king, my lords and ladies, my sirs and madams, I will not trouble you long. In my mind, the situation is, frankly, quite clear. And it is that, no matter what great arguments will undoubtedly be made and have already been made, you, my great king, will still declare war! This congress, which you have called to discuss the possibility, is only the by-product of our laws, which limit the power of our great monarch. You will declare war, and that is because your great cousin, Lord Franoi, Archduke of Versille, has called for aid. All of Bollardia have already heard of the great defeat suffered by the Lucinots at the hands of Marquis Otz. Not declaring war could brand you a coward! If that were to happen, I believe the very people of Baye and the country would force you towards war. That is why you’ve called this congress. You wish to snuff out the rumours before they even begin. In that, I congratulate you! But I still advise against war! Think not only of the many profits your merchants will lose, or of the damage the border lords will have to endure. Think of the people! Even now, thousands of men my age and younger, boys, barely eligible to be called men, take up arms for king and country! Rivers run red with blood and crows feast on the entrails of corpses! As a mere merchant’s son, I am in no place to question your decisions or demand you do anything! But I urge you to think of the countless lives that will be lost, of the uncountable men and boys that will lose their lives, never learning the touch of a woman, the embrace of their fathers or mothers! I implore you to think of the people as you make your decision! That is all. I thank you for your attention!”

With those words, he sat down. The entire assembly stayed silent for a few minutes. The one to end the silence would be the king himself, who clapped as he laughed with pride.

“Well said, son of Nocamius! I revel in your brashness and straightforwardness! I suggest the assembly take an hour-long break! You are all dismissed!”

Everyone in the hall stood and waited for the king to walk out, before bot the nobles and the merchants retreated into a smaller hall, filled with food. As he walked, Kosian felt himself being grabbed by the arm. Turning, he saw father, chuckling.

“A bit brash, boy. But well said,” He said, smiling at Kosian.

“Um… thank you.”

Kosian didn’t join in on the conversations made by the groups of nobles and merchants, mingling amongst each other, some even talking about ‘the young man who doesn’t understand how things work’. He wanted to spit at them. Every single person in this room knew that what he said was true. The king was declaring war whether they liked it or not. Grunting, he instead excited the large hall, stepping into one of the smaller gardens of the castle.

Pathways made of marble stone strung along between well-cut flower bushes, made to look like people or animals. Small trees of fruit bloomed in full, some even already showing green apples or onion fruit. The garden led to a parapet, which overlooked the city, with the hall to its back and a collonaded walkway, which led into other parts of the castle to the right. Walking up to the battlements, Kosian sat down on one of the gaps in between the merlons, allowing his feet to dangle down. A few meters just under him, another wall stretched, this one in dispersed with guards and small, one man towers. After that, the small channel separated the castle from the city and the city itself. Kosian enjoyed looking at the white-topped roofs of Baye, remembering how he taught himself to scale them. No matter the time of year, it always seemed like the city was covered in a thin layer of snow, which could be brushed away with just a finger. Looking at the city from here though, it only added to its majesty. Everything was so much clearer than from that small hill. He could see individual people walking through the clear cut streets, all of whom sprawled from the castle and the main square.

“Truly, a sight to behold!” Kosian thought out loud, smiling at the sight.

As he looked on, the sound of rustling clothes turned his attention. Turning around, he noticed something he wasn’t hoping to see. Two men, noble’s sons by the looks of them, had a girl trapped in between them. The girl, about Kosians age by the looks of it, seemed to be a merchant’s daughter, probably brought here by her father to experience the difficulties of dealing with nobles. Kosian himself remembered how father forced him to negotiate with a young lord for their woollen price. It wasn’t fun in the least. Looking how the men kept getting close to her, making smooching faces or pulling at her arms. He made a low growl. Standing, he made his way at a quick pace to the men. He had also learnt more in the delicate art of dealing with nobles while in university. He thought it was about time to see if he still remembered it.

As he approached though, Kosian was forced to stop in amused shock. The young woman suddenly kicked one of the men in his jewels, making him fall, wheezing, giving the other man a deathly glare, she said:

“Don’t think you can order me around, page boy! I suggest you run back to your small castle in the countryside before I decide to buy it and destroy it in front of you!”

The young noble looked at her as if he had seen a deamon. Helping the other man stand, the two of them disappeared behind one of the doors. Watching them go, the woman turned her gaze on Kosian. Her emerald eyes shone brightly, well framed by that slightly freckled face and that white dress with its light green and gold kirtle.

“And you? Are you planning on putting your moves on me, mister Woolen?”

Kosian smiled at that, which made the woman flinch. Putting his right hand to his heart, he made a leg to her.

“Kosian Nocamius, my dear lady. I was just about to rush to your aid, but I guess it was rude of me to assume a woman of your calibre wouldn’t be able to take care of herself,”

Looking up, he noticed the woman with her hand to mouth. He smiled at that and offered her his arm.

“May I enjoy your company while we wait for the next summons to the assembly?” he asked with a slight high in his voice. The woman looked him up and down, before gently pushing his hand away.

“You may, sir Nocamius, but only my friendly company,” She said, eyeing him askance. ‘Being careful’ Kosian thought.

“I wouldn’t ask for anything more! But, my fair lady, how should I address you?” he asked. And noticed the girl blush suddenly. Which strangely made her angry. Throwing back her long brown hair, she crossed her arms under her breasts.

“Madame Jula Tailleuze. Here in the place of my father, Matremions Tailleuze,” She said, stretching out her hand. A heavy signet ring, bearing the icon of the Tailor guild, was on it. Kosian pressed his lips to the ring, before allowing the lady to go first.

“I enjoyed your short speech before the call for recess, sir Nocamius,” Said Jula, intently looking at the blooming flowers of a vanil tree. “Though I do say that it hasn’t made you any real friends among the current heads of families. I imagine your father is currently running around mitigating the damage as much as possible,”

Kosian flinched at that. His brow darkened. ‘A political woman, eh?’ he thought wryly. Sighing, he answered her:

“I must admit that I do not much care for such things. Let them think what they want. Everyone knows that war is coming. They’re just here because the law orders them to be here. I would’ve rather stayed home, resting from my travels,” Jula did not make any outward reaction, but Kosian felt that she was considering. He was considering as well.

“Travels?” she suddenly asked, moving from the tree to a bush, cut to look like the head of an aigion.

“I have returned from my four years in Licorn university only yesterday,”

Jula suddenly turned to face him, her emerald eyes shining brilliantly. A smile quickly appeared on her face, which she cutely tried to hide, turning from him to look at some flowers.

“Oh, is that so? What subject did you finish?” she asked, glee oozing through her voice.

“Philosophy and law. I wished to study the arts as well, but sadly that would’ve taken me two more years, which my tuition did not cover,” Kosian said, and noticed that the mention of arts also piqued Jula’s interest.

“I understand picking law. Any good merchant must deeply understand the intricacies of that tangled mess if he wants to achieve anything. But why philosophy?” she asked. Kosian felt that there was some trick to this question. It had the air of one, at least. Crouching down next to her, he picked one of the blossoms.

“I understood, that my knowledge is but a minuscule speck in the ocean of understanding. I know that it will most likely achieve nothing, and yet I want to know more,” He quoted.

Jula looked at him with those brilliant eyes of hers, sparkling with excitement. He smiled at her.

“I enjoyed the conundrums, I guess,” he mused, looking out towards the city.

Standing and dusting off her dress, the girl smiled at him.

“Perhaps you won’t make such a bad husband after all. Yet what more is there, when I’ve scoured the world for the knowledge to understand knowledge itself!” She said, a smug self-satisfied smile on her face, as she walked back into the hall, leaving Kosian to blush like a ripe apple.

As he entered the waiting hall not short after, Kosian found his father, speaking to a few colleagues from the guild. He noticed him approaching, excusing himself from their company. Passing a servant, Kosian grabbed a goblet of wine and almost downed it, sighing audibly.

“I met Miss Teilleuze,” He said to father, taking a sip of the wine. It was some of the best he had ever tasted. Watching him, father smiled softly.

“I’m glad you’ve enjoyed her company. I’d say you and she would make a good match,”

“I’d say she’ll be the end of me,” Kosian said wryly, though he knew he wouldn’t mind that one bit. It was just… Kosian’s expression darkened. He… he just couldn’t! He couldn’t stop now! Not after all the planning and…

“Are you alright, son?” father asked suddenly, placing his hand on Kosian’s shoulder. Kosian flinched at that. A quiet moment followed. Finally, he tapped fathers hand.

“I’m alright. Just… thinking,” He said in a hollow voice, smiling at father.

By the time they left the palace, the sun was already sinking past the white tiled roofs, painting the sky a violet red, with the Band slowly starting to shimmer, preparing for its turn to watch over the sky. Kosian felt weak. It almost seemed like he had spent the entire day at the academy, training his body for the annual festival. But he hadn’t. For the entire duration of the assembly, he had completely zoned out, only thinking of the two options fate had now left him. And he just couldn’t.

Stepping out of the carriage, he slinked upstairs, as father walked away, talking to the stable boy about how the dogs had been missing some feed lately. Walking inside, he noticed Jon, smiling as she stood next to the entrance. Servants walked here and there, carrying trays for dinner.

“A letter for you, my sir,” She said, revealing a tattered piece of parchment, wrapped by a few strings. Kosians heart sank. ‘This! This will decide everything!’ he thought, nodding thanks and taking the paper. Carefully unwrapping it, he walked into the waiting room as he read:

“Your brother was successfully rescued from a caravan, which was headed for St. Marsei this morning. Meet us in the hideout at 10:00 in the evening today. Time is of the essence. You and your brother must leave the city before the Church catches wind of this.

Signed, Guilliaurme.”

Reading the words, Kosian felt his breathing quicken. Without a moments delay, he was already in his rooms, dressing into his travelling clothes, taking out the secretly hidden travel bags he had readied just for this. In just five minutes, he was already outside, saddling Jerod. As he did, the sound of footsteps made him stop. Turning, he saw a worried Jon and a confused father approach him.

“What is the matter, Kosian?” father asked, looking him up and down.

Wrinkling her forehead in worry, Jon came to embrace him. “Has something happened?”

Tying the saddle tight, Kosian breathed heavily, turning to them.

“You need to leave the city. Right now. They’ll be after me, which will allow you to escape. Pack up as much as you can, and flee Bollardia altogether. Travel to Bez. Hopefully, we’ll meet there and set sail for the Buetian peninsula,”

“What nonsense is this?! Kosian, I demand you get off that dog and explain yourself!”

Kosian turned to his father, giving him a look that made even Geofroi Nocamius, the Stoic guild master, flinch. Sighing, he looked up at the Band, its stars slowly starting to shimmer red.

“I’m going to get Pietre back,” He simply said, riding away, urging Jerod to go as fast as possible.

He still heard the shouts of father and Jon at his back. But he did not turn back. He had chosen this the moment he met Guilliaurme eight years ago. He wasn’t about to undo years of planning. He wasn’t about to let Pietre slip through his fingers again. Never again.