Chapter 124
I had managed to shove in exactly three bites of toast before a palace guard burst into our quarters like a man who had no respect for breakfast.
"The King requests your presence," he announced, in a tone that suggested 'request' was just a polite word for 'demand.'
Finn, mouth full of what might have been eggs or possibly some kind of pudding, gave a thumbs up. Bran was already on his feet, armor clanking ominously. I stared mournfully at my soon to be abandoned breakfast.
"I hadn't even gotten to the eggs yet," I muttered, chewing half-heartedly on a mostly-burnt slice of bread.
No one bothered to reply.
