“This is not my war,” I told her. “Nor my friends’ war, though a few seem to think it is. A man I’ve never set eyes on claims his blood makes him worthy of taking the throne from another man I’ve never seen, and thousands have died for it. Perhaps the Pretender’s a liar; perhaps he speaks the truth. I have no way of knowing. I do know our king and his nobles never did anything for me besides try to hang me. They are not worthy of my blood, low as it is. I’ll not die for them.”
