Xander

“You seem distracted,” Vedran, my pink-eyed attendant, says as he finishes fastening the line of buttons down the back of my tunic.

I stare out the window at the cloud-studded Dun’s Crossing sky. The tourney flags are all gone or hanging at odd angles, three days of celebrations melting the somewhat elegant presentation I’ve only ever seen through this window. “I suppose I’m surprised we are leaving this quickly.”

“I thought you said King ...