"I'm fast."
The words landed and simply sat there — so small, so plain, that half the column braced for the laugh that had to follow.
Here was a son of the Blue Orchid House, gilded and groomed and untouchable on any practice yard in the capital, and that was the whole of what he had to give. "I'm fast."
Iren seemed to hear how thin it sounded the instant it left his mouth, because his jaw drew tight and his gaze dropped back to the dirt he was still kneeling in.
Northern did not laugh.
For a moment he only regarded the boy, and when he spoke at last the cruelty had gone out of his voice.
"Fast is how a man comes back through the gate," he said.
"I've buried a great many soldiers who were strong. I've buried very few who were quick."
Iren frowned and scoffed.
"What would you know about burying soldiers, you barely even as old as we are…"
Northern smiled kindly.
"You'd be surprised."
Norther focused on the boy, making him uncomfortable.
