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“Don’t you talk to him like that,” Yrene
said with dangerous calm.
His father ignored her.
But Yrene stepped up to Chaol’s side once
more. “I am the heir apparent to the Healer on
High of the Torre Cesme. I came at your son’s
behest, back to the lands of my birth, to help
in this war, along with two hundred healers
from the Torre itself. Your son spent the last
several months forging an alliance with the
khaganate, and now all of the khagan’s armies
sail to this continent to save your people. So
while you sit here in your miserable keep,
tossing insults at him, know that he has done
what no other could do, and if your city
survives, it will be because of him, not you.”
His father blinked at her. Slowly.
It took all of Chaol’s restraint to keep from
sweeping Yrene into his arms and kissing her.
But Chaol said to his father, “Prepare for a