He had heard that Magnus Karas was a very generous and wise person.
A good man. A patient man. Jealous, perhaps, but not insecure. You know, the kind of man who had probably never once in his life squatted in a frozen garden in full imperial regalia, hiding from a woman who had killed his father and was now asleep in his bed.
But any man with blood in his veins and a pulse in his throat and the basic territorial instincts that came standard with the male package, would kill if they knew their soon-to-be wife had taken an afternoon nap in another man's bed.
Right?
This was not complicated nor was it subtle, right? This was the kind of thing that led to duels at dawn and blood feuds spanning generations.
In the first place, how would one explain to one's entire bloodline about why exactly one's fiancée had been found horizontal on the emperor's mattress?
Unless Magnus Karas had the same abundant generosity as Arkai Dawnoro, Oathran Alicei, and Eastiel Edengold.
