Garrick's POV
*****
"H–High Matron." Morwen stuttered, voice low. "We... We need to punish this wolf. The people already demand someone to blame for the losses today—almost five hundred civilian lives. Gone."
Garrick gritted his teeth, spinning himself on the ground until he got a good view of the woman who kept saving his life. Except this time she looked absolutely ethereal. Divine.
Amara—the High Matron—levitated several meters away from the dais, slowly floating closer. Her arms were spread, face covered with the white hood.
"Someone to blame?" Amara repeated, unbothered. "I thought it was clear who that would be."
Garrick's brows furrowed.
He couldn't deny the tension between Amara and Morwen. Or was he imagining things?
Each time Morwen spoke to her, it sounded like she had more to say. To ask.
"The Rogue King?" Morwen muttered. "Y–Yes, he should be blamed but then—"
"Kyren literally threatened to erase Arcadia from the map."
