Storms. He gazed at Gav. Remembering the child he’d played with, held, rejoiced over. A child he’d seen mere hours ago, by his mental reckoning. Could it be that … that Taravangian had been right all along? That this was the actual way of kings? Not Nohadon’s platitudes about helping. A deeper, darker truth: that a king’s duty was to take upon him the sins of an entire government.
