Adrian exhaled, his breath misting in the frigid air. His mind raced through possibilities. He had the advantage in numbers, but Garik was a seasoned warrior—a damn seven-star knight.
If they had others waiting in ambush within the gorge, this escape could turn into a slaughter.
Evelyne's voice cut through his thoughts. "My dear, we must move."
He glanced at his wife, her grip on Lysara tight. His daughters were frightened but silent, trusting in their father's command. He couldn't afford to hesitate.
Garik chuckled, shaking his head. "If exile were what the emperor intended to use to keep the nobles in line, he would've been walked all over by now."
His smirk faded as he lifted his sword, its steel gleaming in the moonlight. "Orders are orders, Lord Adrian. No one except you and your beautiful daughters may leave here alive."
