The joy the King of Harrowhold and his son Marrick felt in that moment could hardly be described.
For the first time in what felt like an eternity, they were standing outside their prison. They were free. Or at least... they were no longer prisoners.
Only a short while ago, they had been locked inside the same miserable building where they had spent days suffering under Vrethka's control. Days that had felt like years. Days that had stripped away every layer of dignity they had once possessed. Days that had taught them exactly how little their titles meant when chains were involved.
Harrowhold had gone to war with Vrethka.
That was nothing unusual in this region. Territory was everything. Every settlement wanted more land. Every lord wanted stronger borders. Every ruler wanted to expand. It was the way of the world. The strong took what they wanted, and the weak either submitted or died. Harrowhold had believed it was strong enough to challenge Vrethka. They had been wrong.
