Chapter Twenty
“They’re moving into position,” someone called. At this point, Alex wasn’t sure who the voice belonged to. He and his entirely too small force of Gauleans had been riding hard for days with very little time for rest and still, they may have arrived too late.
The ground shook beneath his feet. Etta. Or La Dame. Only they would have that kind of power.
He sent out a prayer that Etta was okay.
“Alexandre.” Amalie pushed her horse up beside him. When he didn’t answer, she tried again. “Your Highness.”
Yes, that was right. He wasn’t a king any longer. He glanced behind him. Yet these people continued to follow him.
“Alex,” Ara’s voice rang in his ears. “Please tell me that’s you.” His eyes jerked to the small group of soldiers standing between the two forces. As if sensing
