Chapter Twenty-Three
Griffin straightened his tunic—borrowed from his brother, the king. The ice blue cloth was fine with simple navy embroidery along the shoulders that were a little loose on his narrow frame. A decade in the prison realm had robbed him of the strong physique he’d once had. The trousers were comfortable and simple. Not the clothes of a king.
Making his way down the wide, stark hallway from his rooms, Griffin studied the tapestries along the way to the dining hall. Depicting the history of Iskalt, he wished he’d had memories of walking this hallway, of living in this palace, but he was so young when he’d been forced to leave.
Sounds of laughter drifted from the dining hall.
Griffin had dined in the halls of many palaces where kings and queens were attended by their cou
