The Mad King's Mate
Can't I go by running through a flowery meadow or some shit?
“Someone dropkick this witch.” Pip whisper-yells.
I am so tempted to do so.
The trolls stare at Astria for a long, heavy moment. Then one of them let out a low, grinding sound that makes my stomach twist before realizing
Is it… laughing?
Death by an amused troll, what a way to go.
“Royal blood,” the troll rumbled. “So many mortals claim it. But your crowns crumble, your names fade. The treaty remains.”