In any other moment or day, it would almost seem like Duke Ariam Romanov had taken a good number of his garrison from Frisia and ordered them to come here.
However, to a lone guy on horseback, the royal messenger, it almost seemed like he was going to be swallowed alive by them.
The guy was sweating and looked like he wanted to dart back up the hill and return to the royal villa. What to do? He was at war with himself. This dark duke truly lived up to his reputation.
If it wasn't for his lovely and charming wife, all the nobles in the capital would fear him and took their distance when it came to the duke, even though he brought business to Riga.
"Coward. He isn't even prepared to die for this banner he serves." Isolde commented to her son. Her nose scrunched up in disgust.
