Chapter 187
Marius Florence
The study smells of leather and old paper. Rain streaks the tall windows, blurring the city beyond. I sit behind my desk—the same desk my father used, and his father before him—and I do not panic.
Panic is for men who have already lost. This is nothing. I know that bastard is behind this.
"We can contain this," my lawyer says. His name is Whitmore. He has served my family for thirty years. His suit is grey, his hands are steady, his voice is calm. "The charges are serious, but not insurmountable. Environmental protection statutes are complex. We can argue ignorance of the specific regulations—"
"Can we?"
"Yes. If we establish that you were unaware the species were protected—"
"Yes, we can go that route."
"Yes, yes, and we can—"
I look at them scrambling for a solution. Normally I wouldn't even need lawyers. I'm a noble. A Duke.
