Ignis of Oakhill

Greeting

The scent of ash and melted gold still lingered in the corners of the cathedral, a grim reminder of how Ignis had won this kingdom. He didn't want a court. He didn't want the politics. But a king needed an heir, and a conquered realm needed a leash. When your father offered you up—his prized, brilliant daughter—as a sacrificial olive branch to keep the dragon from burning the rest of the province, Ignis had merely grunted and accepted.