Chapter 11
I knew my chances were slim. But I had one advantage Kael couldn't ignore: Elias. The child every doomsday cult, prophecy scribe, and paranoid noble had been whispering about for years.
I spent three days collecting every scrap of intel I had on Kael. His estate was stable, his troops were fiercely loyal, and his court was frozen in fear and respect. He hadn't taken a wife, a mistress, or a single bribe in over a decade. He was a walking fortress, and I wanted in.
My offer had to be perfect. No flattery. No begging. Just cold strategy.
"You gain: strategic positioning, political leverage, and access to a child tied to prophecy.
I gain: protection, autonomy, and enough power to keep the empire from devouring us."
It wasn't romantic. It was war.
I sealed it with my name—Clarisse Arven—and sent it off by hawk. A hawk. Because if I was going to be reckless, I might as well be dramatic about it.
.
.
.
.
.
End of Chapter 11