Listross’s stern eyes flashed between Emmya and Eppra. “Fine.” He drew his weapon. “Come men, let’s go take this city. We’ll enslave the Ferronians as they’ve enslaved us.” Eppra let out the breath she was holding and gave Listross a small smile. “Thank you.” “Bolfreed, take Emmya to Tales, and make sure she stays there. The rest of you, grab a weapon. When we go in, we will make a point to not kill. If the Ferronians resist, bind them. Flouth, grab the rope.” “Got it, Prince.” “But Daddy!” Bolfreed hoisted Emmya as she reached towards Listross. Listross turned his back as Bolfreed started jogging off. “I love you, Emmya. Just stay with Tales. You’ll be fine” Grink strode over and pointed at Eppra. “Your family lords over this town, correct?” Eppra gave a single nod. “Then, Prince Listross, I suggest you select three others to march with you to take that house. It’ll be a sign of power. Have the rest of the men position themselves in the city.” “If you’re breaking into teams, I’d send one to the blacksmith, one to the innkeeper, and one to the Rigor Farm. They have the most renown in town, that is, besides my father.” “Grink, take the blacksmith. Flouth, the innkeeper. Rawruin, the farm.” “Yes, Prince,” the three men saluted in unison. Listross thrust his blade into the air before marching. Eppra led her horse by his side through the forest to the city.