Darrow said nothing, and Lord Sloane
clapped him on the shoulder before heading
inside.
“What happens at the end?” Evangeline
dared ask Darrow.
The old man gazed across the city, the
battlefield full of such terrible darkness.
“Either we surrender,” he said, voice
hoarse, “and Erawan makes slaves of us all, or
we fight until we’re all carrion.”
Such stark, harsh words. Yet she liked that
about him—that he did not soften anything for
her. “Who shall decide what we do?”
His gray eyes scanned her face. “It would
fall upon us, the Lords of Terrasen.”
Evangeline nodded. Enemy campfires
flickered to life, their flames seeming to echo
the beat of their bone drums.
“What would you decide?” Darrow’s
question was quiet, tentative.
lily
(lily)
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