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"You want to consult that lich?" The old elven king was certain he had misheard.
This was an internal discussion among elven royalty. And Catherine wanted to bring in that lich?
What exactly had Catherine experienced on her tour of the world, to turn instinctively to such a being?
"I know it sounds strange," Catherine said calmly, "but if you've ever spent time with him, you'd understand. He's the best there is at negotiation. He knows how to balance everyone's interests. I believe he can resolve this."
Her trip with Ambrose had taught her one crucial thing: self-awareness.
She finally understood that she had never been a truly capable ruler. She was too naïve and too idealistic, like a girl who had never quite grown up. Faced with something of this scale, her instinct was to seek help from the one person who always seemed to have an answer.
Her trust in Ambrose had been built piece by piece, through miracle after miracle.
A lich who could make paladins kneel, who had turned the Ragetide Kingdom into his personal playground, who could sway druids with a few casual words… If anything, his tongue must have been blessed by the gods themselves. There was nothing he couldn't handle.
The old elven king glanced helplessly...
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