Doria sat in a high-backed chair by the window, sipping a cup of cider. The cool liquid ran smoothly down his throat, its sharp sweetness a welcome contrast to the bitter taste left by the day's formalities. His eyes wandered over the view beyond the window—the manicured garden, the distant city walls, and the landscape beyond.
He could understand now why Lord Keval Achea, had taken such interest in this remote corner of the world. He was not sure whether they would agree to give up their monopoly on the imperial market.
He knew that if this princedom was even a quarter as strong as the empire then they would have had no chance to even discuss such an arrangement, especially with all the turmoil in the empire.
Setting the cup down, Doria looked across the room to where Marcus stood, arms crossed in his usual manner. "So," Doria began, his voice calm yet probing, "do you have something for me?"
