Darien
Moving an army the size of mine took time, and after two hard days of riding we finally reached the rendezvous point. The banners of Adonis were already flying when we crested the ridge.
I rode in ahead and found Alec standing at a command table with an older man. Silver at the temples. Strong jaw. The same stubborn set to the mouth that I had grown to love on his daughter’s face.
King George.
I dismounted and walked over.
“Alec.”
He looked up and grinned, waving me in. “Darien, this is King George of Aderian. George, this is King Darien of Specter.”
George nodded at me. “I hope my daughter is well.” His tone was polite. His eyes were not. I could read the distrust in them from three paces. The reputation I had earned in my darker years was still earning interest with men lik
