Alistair, son of one of the most powerful women in the world, had never tasted defeat.
He had always had everything.
Hundreds of servants tending to his every whim, bodyguards posted at every turn, mansions scattered across distant lands, and a fleet of luxury cars reserved solely for his daily travels.
Raised with love and pampering, he had never needed to fight for anything in his life. Even his position as the Golden Lord had fallen into his lap, the fruit of his mother's tireless efforts.
Even as Lord of Whitefall, he had never faced a single true difficulty .
The territory had already been far more developed than Goldenveil when he inherited it. There was no opposition to his rule, and two vassal villages paid him tribute without question.
All the administrative burden fell on his mother's shoulders, and he himself rarely exerted himself beyond what was absolutely necessary.
