Free Night Angel: The Complete Trilogy by Brent Weeks

disobedience.”
    “Guards!” she called.
    “Dammit, mother! Stop it!” Logan stood so abruptly his chair clattered to the ground behind him.
    The guards were halfway to Solon’s chair. They suddenly looked caught, conspicuous. They looked at each other and slowed, vainly tried to approach quietly, their chain mail jingling with every step.
    “Logan, we’ll speak about this later,” Catrinna Gyre said. “Tallan, Bran, escort this man out. Now.”
    “I am the Gyre! Don’t touch him,” Logan shouted.
    The guards stopped. Catrinna’s eyes flashed fury. “How dare you question my authority. You second-guess your mother in front of a stranger? You’re an embarrassment, Logan Gyre. You shame your family. Your father made a terrible mistake in trusting you.”
    Solon felt sick, and Logan looked worse. He was shaken, suddenly wavering, about to fold.
The snake. She destroys what she should protect. She shatters her own son’s confidence.
    Logan looked at Tallan and Bran. The men looked wretched to be so visibly witnessing Logan’s humiliation. Logan shrank, seemed to deflate.
    I have to do something.
    “My Lord Gyre,” Solon said, standing and drawing all eyes. “I’m terribly sorry. I don’t wish to impose on your hospitality. The last thing I would wish to be is an occasion for strife in your family, and indeed, I forgot myself and spoke too frankly to your mother. I am not always attunedto… tempering the truth for Cenarian sensibilities. Lady Gyre, I apologize for any offense you or your lord may have taken. Lord Gyre, I apologize if you felt I treated you lightly and will of course take my leave, if you will grant it.” A little twist on the
if you will grant it.
    Logan stood straighter. “I will not.”
    “My lord?” Solon painted puzzlement on his face.
    “I’ve found too much tempering and not enough truth in this house, Lord Tofusin,” Logan said. “You’ve done nothing to offend me. I’d like you to stay. And I’m sure my mother will do all she can to make you feel welcome.”
    “Logan Gyre, you will not—” Catrinna Gyre said.
    “Men!” Logan said to the guards loudly to cut her off. “Lady Gyre is tired and overwrought. Escort her to her chambers. I’d appreciate it if one of you would watch her door this night in case she requires anything. We will all dine in the usual room in the morning.”
    Solon loved it. Logan had just confined his mother to her chambers and put a guard on the door to keep her there until morning, all without giving her an avenue for complaint.
This boy will be formidable.
    Will be? He already is. And I’ve just chained myself to him.
It wasn’t a comfortable thought. He hadn’t even decided to stay. Actually, half an hour ago, he’d decided not to decide for a few weeks. Now he was Logan’s.
    Did you know this would happen, Dorian?
Dorian didn’t believe in coincidences. But Solon had never had his friend’s faith. Now, faith or no faith, he was committed. It made his neck feel tight, like wearing a slave collar two sizes too small.
    The rest of an excellent meal passed in silence. Solon begged his lord’s leave and went looking for the nearest inn that served Sethi wine.

10
    H er face was destroyed. Azoth had once seen a man kicked square in the face by a horse. He’d died wheezing on broken teeth and blood. Doll Girl’s face was worse.
    Azoth looked away, but Durzo grabbed a handful of his hair and turned him back. “Look, damn you, look. This is what you’ve done, boy. This iswhat hesitation costs. When I say kill, you kill. Not tomorrow, not five days later. You kill that second. No hesitation. No doubts. No second thoughts. Obedience. Do you understand the word? I know better than you do. You know nothing. You are nothing. This is what you are. You are weakness. You are filth. You are the blood bubbling out of that little girl’s nose.”
    Sobs burst from Azoth’s throat. He thrashed and tried to turn away, but Durzo’s grip was steel.