Gild

Gold doorknobs, gleaming vines creeping up gilded walls, metallic columns holding up all the wealth as they reach for the archways. Not now that he mobilized his army and agreed to help Midas on a secret attack on Fourth Kingdom. His face is swollen and bruised, a crack of blood clotted against his brow—either from the carriage wreck or a struggle against the Red Raids. Where all others finally caved and tossed themselves off the bridge, giving in, she pressed on.