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Korvar’s failure… was not such a failure.

His queen had escaped him, yes, and mated with a man blessed by his father. Not just blessed, chosen.

Now she had… a daughter.

It was impossible.

Asche would not have come if it were not important.

And while his father had defeated him again, he would not wear his shame for others.

He was far too proud for that.

He would hear her words.

Asche knelt before him, her forehead pressed to the stone of his throne room.

He did not want to hear her words. Did not want to hear any words.

But Mor would never come for him.

Not for many more millennium.

Chaos reigned in Oskelez again.

He didn’t bother to rein in even the worst abuses.

Let them die. Pollute the land and air so their kind could never walk here again.

He no longer cared about even that.

He slumped in his throne.

Korvar was dead. His retainer gone.

She was gone. Worse than gone.

She was in the one place he couldn’t reach her. The one place so blessed by his father that it burned to walk there.

He roared, but there was no power in it.

His father had won. Again.

He made certain Arch-Grimveldt Korvar understood no other would do.

It had to be her.

Without her, Uzakiel would get His due from the necromancer.

He allowed the necromancer to think he needed to fear the dark god.

But if he didn’t bring her back, Uzakiel was the least of his worries.