SAGE
"We didn't even do much there," Isla complained the second the driver dropped us off in front of the house.
Her heels clicked against the stone path as she stomped toward the porch, her voice still full of that frustrated whine she'd carried all night. "We didn't even enjoy the feast I saw there… not really."
I rolled my eyes, already reaching for the keys. "I wasn't there to feast," I said, unlocking the door. "I was there to put the second stage of the plan in motion."
That shut her up for all of three seconds. Then came the inevitable frown. "And what exactly is obtainable in that, Sage?" she asked, brushing past me into the dimly lit sitting room.
"You get to be some high-ranking official—so what? To what end? You should've just asked for the throne and saved us all the trouble."
I turned to her, one brow raised, a small, amused smile tugging at my lips. "And what use would the throne be to me?"
