Ambrose Drak
The thunderous noise makes his ears ring. The ground under his feet quakes, and he stumbles. Regaining his stride, he glances over his shoulder.
A red-hot fire surges across the bushes.
The tower his stepfather, William, had been held in now lays in ruins.
The intense heat of the blue flames can mean only one thing. Whoever is attacking the castle has access to liquid fire, which is difficult to acquire in any kingdom outside of the northern realms.
His uncle, Lord Maxton, may have connections but not like these. The people behind this have long reaching arms, he's sure of it.
Ambrose leads Mercy down a winding trail. She slows her pace at a rocky pass.
He glances at her feet and instantly understands why. She's barefoot.
Thoughts of her leather boots fill his mind. The craftsmanship and style are two things he's never seen before in footwear.