“You could, you know,” Rowan said, his tattoo stark in the lantern light. “Take it for yourself. Take it all. Use Maeve’s bullshit maneuvers against her. Make good on that promise.” There was no judgment. Only frank calculation and contemplation. “And would you join me if I did? If I turned conqueror?” “You would unify, not pillage and burn. And yes—to whatever end.”
