"A pup who has yet to sprout a single hair on his face is giving us a warning?" the king said in a cold, deep voice. The whole court held its breath.
The lords' reactions were a mixture of wounded pride and thoughtful contemplation. The king must have convinced them that leaving was not an option—that Vidalia would never let them go. But now, a real opportunity had presented itself—if only they seized it.
They wouldn't even lose much face, as it could be framed that their people had come seeking aid, prompting their king to abandon the conquest of another country to save his own. That was, of course, if they even wanted to leave at all.
"Not a warning!" Damian clarified. "An option—one that gives your people a fighting chance in the upcoming battle. How would history remember a king who invaded another country, only to lose his own while plundering it?"
That earned him more hateful gazes than anyone had received in that court from the beginning.
