CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Henry d’Angelica paused at the gate to the Duke of Axshire’s estate, gathering himself for what was to come even while he took in the view of the country house that some fine landscaper had probably carefully contrived.
To Henry, it looked contrived, the trees that had stood before it when he’d last visited cut down to stumps to improve the view, some of the old defenses of what had once been a mighty castle improved to modern standards of aesthetics. Henry couldn’t understand this constant need to improve things. Until the events of the last few months, the kingdom had functioned well enough. Maybe not perfectly, but that was a matter to bring up at the Assembly of Nobles, not a reason to tear it all apart.
He rode down toward the duke’s home, hoping that others would
