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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Do it! One of the best things I've read in recent years.
This reminds me. I want to read Addie LaRue.