Seriously? I provided over a hundred warships free of charge to transport troops for the Allied Forces, and all I got in return was a vote?
A torrent of curses flooded Rowan's mind. He wanted nothing more than to rush up and slap that shameless old mage.
The Alliance representatives exchanged glances, then raised their hands to vote. The result was all too predictable: everyone voted in favor except Liam, who kept his hand down.
Fuck! Rowan had been mentally prepared, but he hadn't expected every representative to be a fence-sitter.
Arthas forcibly concealed his excitement and spoke with feigned composure. "Thank you to the Combined Fleet of Kul Tiras for coming to our aid, and to all the Conference Representatives for your trust. The Order of the Silver Hand will deploy its full strength this time. Lordaeron will spare no effort to help the entire Alliance eradicate the Scourge's threat to Azeroth."
As he spoke, Arthas made sure to steal a few glances at Rowan. Seeing Rowan's expression, as though he had swallowed a mouthful of shit, Arthas secretly gloated and nearly laughed aloud.
Finally, it's your turn to suffer, you bastard.
Warm applause filled the conference hall. The representatives thanked Lord Rowan for his selfless contributions to the Allied Forces and congratulated Prince Arthas on successfully obtaining the Book of Medivh.
Failing to obtain the Book of Medivh meant, at most, taking a small loss. That alone was nothing to Rowan.
The Book of Medivh was not essential to him. Getting it would have been a welcome bonus; missing out was only a minor loss.
The sole reason Rowan was so agitated was that Arthas, a walking time bomb, had obtained this artifact.
Arthas already wielded the Great Filial Son's Sword. Rowan couldn't imagine what outrageous things he