Harrison pauses, meeting my eyes.
“I’m more concerned by what the people think.”
“And what do the people think?”
His gaze slides to Gale — bleeding, sobbing, pinned to the table like a gutted animal — and the disgust on his face is visceral.
“A whimp,” he whispers, seething. “I am here to correct that mistake. I am here to save the face of the Crawfords and end this nonsense once and for all.”
“And where does Ember fit into this narrative?”
Harrison’s expression doesn’t change, but something flickers in his eyes.
“Your girlfriend has my respect. She handled herself admirably tonight. I have no quarrel with her, and I wish you both well in your relationship.”
“How generous.”
“I am a practical man, Your Majesty. I bear no grudges against those who haven’t wronged me. Ember was a vic
