Raoul will one day be baron of peaceful marshy Marckmont, but until his eighteenth birthday, he’s under the protection of his Uncle Armand, Count of the bleak and windy crags of Ger. Armand has no love for the slight and introspective Raoul, and can’t understand why his nephew would rather play chess and write songs than hunt animals. Raoul, a romantic, likes to think about beautiful things, but at Ger, “you must be smothered in blood before they think you are a man.”
When Raoul is told he can’t go with Armand’s company to the tourney in Belsaunt,
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Thanks for the kind words, Marion! Coming as they are from a professional writer, they are much appreciated!
Wonderful review, Sandy.
The "body count" bothered me a bit less because being dead seemed more like an inconvenience than anything else... unlike…
Detailed, thoughtful review, Bill. I'm going to read it for two reasons. First, Karen Russell wrote it, and second, it…
this sounds like a fun one