“Damn that bastard!”
A silvery goblet flew right by Olivio Marn’s face, flying straight into the wall where it spilled it’s half-emptied contents all over the decor. Wiping off his sleeves, although no droplet had touched it, Olivio turned to his father and said, “I take it the meeting went well?”
“Meeting?” His father, Arden Marn, scoffed. “That was no meeting… It was a godsdamned farce!”
“Please, Father… What happened?”
“I’ll tell you what bloody happened,” Arden’s eyes bulged as he spat out his words, “That damned cretin has finally gone utterly insane! He wants us to go up against the bloody army—with a war hero at the helm, no less!”
“Does he have a plan?”
“A preposterous one, sure,” Arden growled, and picked up a new goblet, which he filled with more wine, “I’m telling you; tom
