Keemlin met his eyes. “Tian’s mother, Lady Yabeth, has lost four sons to the Blight,” he said, softly enough that only Malenarin could hear. “Tian’s the only one she has left. If one of us has a shot at getting out, sir, I figured it should be him.” Malenarin held his son’s eyes. The boy understood what was coming. Light help him, but he understood. And he’d sent another away in his place.
