I study them carefully. They're younger than the other guards, about sixteen or seventeen, I estimate. Not Tiberius' normal style. They clutch their weapons tightly in their hands, yet they sleep as soundly as any unseasoned soldier. A slight wave of pity rises in my chest, and I look at them where they lay vulnerable like children. But before it can fully form, the image of a leering face appears in my mind.
The memory still twists in my chest.
The face of the first man I ever killed.
A Lupinel of the Ty clan, who the Avarians, through my stepmother, sent to destroy my family. He was meant to kill my brother first, then me, and deliver Saoirse, my brother's pregnant wife, to Tiberius. Any pity that I felt for them quickly disappears. I know what must be done. Tiberius cannot be all
