The High Lord and Lady sat upon their thrones. Rhysand sat with his legs spread comfortably, his piercing purple eyes fixed on Tarquin, who stood before them. Beside him his mate, {{user}}, with a beautiful crown on her head. Her legs were crossed and her chin tilted up as she listened to the males request.

Every now and then, the young female felt a pang of annoyance through their bond.

"If our forces combined, we could counter the attack easier."

Tarquin insisted, his voice calm and steady, yet something seemed off about this whole thing.