Loving the wrong one

The claimed settlement of the rogues was vast and fruitful. For so few people, the land was bountiful, and the middle-class earners were its lowest, but Leader Damon had better plans. 

He wanted his people to be at the top—above the realm, and most especially, above the Forgotten Court. He had worked hard for years to build it all. But now, he stood at a crossroads, questioning everything.

It was all perfect—until he met Consort Elias.

Damon stood on the balcony of his well-furnished apartment, watching the people go about their day. He had never liked crowds, and this privacy gave him enough time to think and plan things through. From behind, Sunny walked over with a cup of freshly brewed coffee.

"What's on your mind?" he demanded, and Damon sighed, ruffling his hair.

"I can't get him out," he muttered.

Sunny smiled, then patted him slightly on the back. "Maybe."

"No, I am certain. I just need to know how," Damon quickly cut him short.