The way he’d murdered Banner’s brother. Hands tight around a throat until the windpipe was crushed. My eyes darted to my fiancé’s. There was murder in Banner’s gaze. His hatred of the Guardian was as potent as the scent of my hair dye. But Goddess Carine must have heard our prayers for peace, because he kept his temper leashed, standing stoically at Father’s side like the dutiful general he was. I wasn’t in love with Banner. I wasn’t particularly excited about becoming the wife of a man under my father’s thumb. But I didn’t want to see him hanged for treason, either.
It would probably help if he was less grumpy!
