His father, Aldric, finally looked at him not with pity, but with something unfamiliar: respect.
The Baron looked at the infant, then at the rusted sword hanging above the hearth—the Silvera Heirloom, a blade said to record the deeds of its wielders. The last entry was two hundred years ago. The family had been fading ever since. His father, Aldric, finally looked at him not
Cain smiled. He opened his mouth and spoke to his father, but loud enough for the garrison to hear. His father, Aldric, finally looked at him not
