TYR

The voices droned on and on, thick as syrup, filling the grand hall like a swarm of bees I couldn’t swat away.

Why couldn’t they do this without me?

I sat on the throne and rested my chin on one fist, staring at the sea of polished helmets and robes that glimmered under the chandeliers. This wasn’t how I intended to spend my day.

I wanted to be in the field with the men or buried in the archives searching for answers about the dark magic that had taken root in our lands, not ...