Arthur had taken both his mother and father home the same day he visited Atinberg.
Asking Tinker to watch over them turned out to be the right call. He never could've guessed they'd be attacked on the way back—or that things would spiral this far.
Now, his father still lay unconscious, his head resting gently on his wife's lap as the carriage rocked along the road.
The carriage had been sent by Scott, and even the driver was someone he'd trusted for the job.
Arthur had told him he would return tomorrow—and finish this chapter for good.
Because if anyone understood what happened when you let your enemies live, it was Arthur.
If someone could carry a grudge for fifteen years, then unless that person was dead, that hatred would never fade.
And Arthur was going to make sure of that. The ex-Viscount would disappear.
"Arthur… are you really not hurt?" His mother's voice broke the silence. She'd asked the same thing three times now.
