The victory at Redcrest Pass had given the kingdom a moment of reprieve, but Damien knew it was fleeting. Calder and the coalition had suffered a blow, but they would not retreat for long. The coalition's forces were vast, their resources seemingly endless, and their ambitions unwavering.
As Damien stood on the battlements of Blackmere, the cold wind cutting through his cloak, he allowed himself a moment to reflect. The kingdom's survival hung by a thread, and every decision he made seemed to draw that thread tighter.
Amara joined him, her sharp blue eyes glinting in the moonlight. "You've got that look again," she said lightly, leaning against the stone wall.
"What look?" Damien asked, though his steel-gray eyes didn't leave the horizon.
"The one that says you're carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders," she replied, her tone teasing but her gaze serious. "You've got people, Damien. Use them."