In the world of the Middle Ages, friends are just enemies who haven't found a good reason to betray you yet.
The Duke didn't shout. He didn't call the guards. Instead, he turned to his brother and smiled—the cold, calculated smile of a player who had just checked the . In the world of the Middle Ages, friends
Suddenly, a notification seemed to chime in the air—a . Instead, he turned to his brother and smiled—the
Vratislav leaned in, his eyes gleaming with the sharp light of a man who saw opportunity in every shadow. "An alliance secures our southern border, brother. It makes us untouchable. With the Hungarians at our back, we could finally claim the Duchy of Nitra." "An alliance secures our southern border, brother
"The King of Hungary offers an alliance," Bořivoj muttered, his voice gravelly from a week of fever. "He wants my eldest daughter for his second son."
"You're right, Vratislav," Bořivoj said, sliding the parchment across the table. "We need this alliance. In fact, I want you to lead the embassy to Budapest. Take the mountain pass. It’s faster."