"Becoming a merchant isn't such a terrible fate," said Orion, his weathered voice laced with calm practicality. The middle-aged mentor sat beneath the eaves of the herb shed, his eyes sharp under furrowed brows. "But you might not have the luxury of choosing. You're the only heir left to Duke Caspian."
Kasmeri stood stiffly, fists clenched, his gaze fixed on the dirt path. "My hands are soaked in blood, Orion," he muttered bitterly. His voice was low, taut with guilt. "I never wanted the title. I loathe everything the nobility stands for."
Kasmeri and Alaric had one thing in common: They had the same master. Though they were just his apprentices, Orion forbade them from calling him master. Instead, he insisted that they be called by his name.