Damon smiled as he sat at the center of the bridge on a chair, while Waton nervously watched the proceedings. Wendy sat cross-legged nearby, playing with a squirrel and a raven, completely unbothered by Damon's words or actions.
Matia stood beside him, holding a spear made of ice, her expression cold and watchful.
Renata narrowed her eyes as she glanced at the bridge where a few bodies hung from a noose. Some were beheaded, their heads mounted on pikes—remnants of those who had attacked Damon's establishment, confident in their strength.
They had come rushing here, thinking they could have it all—women, wealth, and most of all, control of the bridge.
They learned the folly of their ways in death. Now their corpses served as a deterrent to any other fools who might try the same.
Damon took a sip from a glass of wine, still wearing the monocle he did not even need.
