Elizabeth Drakes's Site

A general that was almost too fat for his armor waddled over to Prince Randolph. “Your father sent word, Your Highness.” Prince Randolph already knew what his father wanted. The complete and unconditional surrender of the Hallean people. But Randolph would have to kill every last one of them to get it.

Prince Randolph did not understand why the Hallean people would not join with his kingdom. Except he did know. They were proud. Fierce. Independent. Warriors that were said to be cut from the same stone and ice that marked their home. They did not have a place among the “elegance” and “refinement” of his people.

Prince Randolph stared at the foreboding mountains that gleamed white under the moon. They were as harsh and cold as the people that inhabited them. He didn’t want to another war. But he wouldn’t back down from it, either.