“Get out,” my father growls, taking a single menacing step towards the Atalaxian delegation. There’s danger in every line of my father, and even our own people lean away at the sight of him. Dad – he really is the wolf incarnate, ready to leap across the room and destroy this man who has so casually threatened us with conqueset.
“Gladly,” Gibson murmurs, giving a little shrug. As one, all of the Atalaxians turn towards the door, pausing before they begin to march. And I realize, as I did last night, that all of this is rehearsed.
That they…they probably never came to Moon Valley intending to have peace talks.
That it was always about this – about learning more about where we stand and then this moment of telling us that they intend to destroy us, and that the assault starts now. Sure, t
