Karl Lambert stared at the sniveling guards before him. His horse, an undead with blazing green eyes, snorted and bent it's chewed up neck to graze.
Gloom hadn't needed to eat in a hundred years, ever since it died, but the horse was a creature of habit and stubbornly refused to behave like an undead.
Maybe that was why Karl loved the old thing so much.
"There is already a Boliarin in Myrna, sir. The law dictates…" Began guardsman Rollo, but the necromancer just snorted.
"And how am I to speak to the boy if I can't ever meet with him? There is something I must give him. He is going to leave the country with the blessings of our good and wise king," Karl snorted at that. Valyr might have been wise to take the Lamberts out of the line of succession, but he was not kind.
With a shake of the head, he continued.
