Ronin
George had left after their brief conversation, leaving the Prince with more than he had expected to consider. He was right, of course. As the Spymaster, often was. In accepting a relationship with him, in making a family together; he was asking her to give up everything.
He knew that he could spend a decade wishing that there was a simple answer, but there wasn’t one. Yet as he stood at the edge of the ballroom, watching Ilan waltz by with Lady Tindell, he let out a soft sigh.
He wore his usual uniform of Milanic bright blue. Over dark breeches and high boots. He was tired of dressing up and attending dances. Especially dances that he couldn’t dance with Thea. Dances that she wasn’t even in attendance for. His shoulders were tight, knotted
Across the room he could see Freya spe
