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Summary
Mark wouldn’t have thought it was possible of Sebastian, who stumbled over his words and peered through his long hair up at him with wrists so tiny, Mark wondered how they would ever hold up a sword, much less fight with it. He didn’t have to worry for long because Sebastian was more than capable of holding his sword and his own in battle, raging and fierce, carving an arc through the front lines and killing Mark’s men.
Yet every night when the commander of the Cavallino army walked up to the gates of the Toros castle to present another treaty, another treaty that everyone knew would be torn and thrown into the fireplace, Mark couldn’t resist him. Old habits die hard, and Sebastian was one he never knew how to quit.
