Chapter 417. Drunk Confessions

I’d walk off a cliff if there was one nearby. 

I’m sure if I ran deep enough into what was once called the Deadlands–the old home of creatures like rogues–I’d find the swift death I’m looking for. 

Instead, I’m drunk in an inn somewhere in the Roguelands… but not nearly drunk enough to wash the taste of every word I said to Kenna out of my mouth.

The inn is full of warriors from all three major kingdoms. The Tarsian warriors are notable by their sandy colored leathers and desert sun-tanned skin. It’s interesting to watch them confer with the Rogueland warriors, of course. The allyship between the Tarsian and the Roguelands is precarious, based wholly on how Alpha King Ryatt and Alpha King Jaxon feel about each other at the moment. 

Queen Ella split Eastonia in two during the first years of her reign, giving Jaxon full authority of the lands past the river that once walled the Roguelands off from the lost city of Rifthold. 

I’v