A political alliance
Tanya and Ezra slipped past the guests and attendants to quietly make their way outside. The garden overlooking the eastern façade of the palace was where Marquis Sullivan and his supporters had gathered along with a handful of loyal butlers and personal guards.

A white marble table shaped like a three-leafed clover had been set in a secluded part of the garden under the shade of a cherry blossom tree, and six chairs had been arranged around it for the Marquis and his confidants.

Marquis Sullivan and Viscount Forell were joined by the wealthiest businessman in the city: the wine merchant, Griffith Herington, and the king’s former general: the old knight Sir Samson Deville.

The two vacant chairs were swiftly occupied by two of the king’s distant cousins, a red-haired young man of mixed descent and a dark-skinned middle-aged man from the port city of Cekunia.

“It was terribly suffocating in there. Thank God he decided to take a break,” the dark-skinned man muttered as he loosened his sti
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