I sit perched on the jagged edge of the rock, the cold mountain air biting at my skin as I look down at the sprawling, Empire below. It looks so peaceful from up here, but I know the rot that's hidden beneath the roof tiles.
Kael stands a few paces behind me, his shadow long and sharp against the stone. "My Lady," he says, his voice breaking the heavy silence. "What is your next move?"
I look up at the vast, indifferent sky and internally scream. Crap! Lucian was right! I proposed a revolution like I was ordering a side of noodles. I don't have land, I don't have a governing body, and "building a kingdom" takes more than just a dramatic exit and a dragon friend.
A kingdom needs an economy. It needs a military. Where am I going to get that? I can't just draft an army of malnourished, exhausted people from the slums—I want to save them, not turn them into cannon fodder for the Empire's border wars!
