Clyde
Marcus studied me, as if trying to see into my very soul. He knew me well enough to trust my judgment over pure emotion.
“I understand, Your Majesty," he finally said, his voice steady again. "If that's your decision, I’ll follow. But we need to keep a close eye on her." He paused, suggesting, "Raven, my youngest daughter, is lively and loyal to the crown. Maybe… let her befriend this woman and report back. A peer who isn’t seen as a threat might get her to open up."
Raven? The bold girl who dreams of being a warrior? I thought for a moment. It wasn’t a bad idea. Raven’s directness could be refreshing, less likely to raise suspicions.
“Alright,” I agreed, “but will your daughter go along with it?”
"If I order her, she might resist," Marcus admitted. "But if we make it seem like
