owe you my life,” Adolin growled, as if it hurt to say the words. “That’s the only reason I haven’t yet thrown you through a window.” He reached up with a gauntleted finger and tapped at Kaladin’s chest. “But my patience with you won’t extend as far as my father’s, little bridgeman. There’s something off about you, something I can’t put my finger on. I’m watching you. Remember your place.” Great. “I’ll keep you alive, Brightlord,” Kaladin said, pushing aside the finger. “That’s my place.” “I can keep myself alive,” Adolin said, turning away and tromping across the sand with a clink of Plate.
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