• The Order Of The Enemy Of My Enemy

Duke Bellunder stayed silent. He knew the kind of man Lord Daligarth was, not just because of the things that had been whispered about him, but because of the things he actually knew.

Daligarth was a clever man. He knew how to manipulate people based on what they needed or desired, making them do things for his own benefit, while making it seem like it was their decision to do these things.

He knew it was a risk working with him. But with the matter at hand; the safety of the First Wing, his family name and the entire Continent, Bellunder believed it was a risk worth taking.

"Osric," he greeted sternly.

"Dornis," Daligarth reciprocated, although in a more mocking manner. "Peculiar, isn't it?" he asked with a tilt of his head. "You and I. In a room together. Talking strategies. Working... together."

Bellunder shrugged slightly. "The circumstances are more peculiar, I would say. This is necessary. I'd call it the order of the enemy of my enemy."