43
Firian
Just outside the battle room, Firian glared into Tiev’s slanted eyes. “I killed an Amir! A strategist!”
“That’s why I’m not throwing you out,” Tiev cried, keeping his voice low to prevent it from cracking, “but I’d rather have ten Bards who do as they’re told than one gory insurgent!” His teeth flashed white in a snarl.
Firian swore at him and stalked away. He wouldn’t stay to hear more abuse. Not today. Not when everything crumbled around him—everything he’d built, every relationship he had. Let Tiev try to stop him. Firian had less and less to lose.
Bard was already snoring when Firian got back to the room, even though he had only left minutes before Firian’s run-in with Tiev.
Firian felt too filthy to touch anything, even the bed. With something like despair, he threw hi
