4.6 Dedication
“Who do you think you are fooling,
dog?” Assawin had started losing
patience. What was it about these
stubborn morons from Sehanagara?
Where did they find such strength of
will? Irritating. Infuriating.
“You reckon you can pass yourself off
as some peasant?” Daylight had gone -
and still, this dog had not broken.
Assawin wasn’t interested in the piece
of scum himself. Only as much as he
could use the idiot to get to Grisingh.
Find out how close they were. Then
torture the hell out of the dog. To
get Grisingh to break. Subjugate
himself. Then Assawin could approach
his king. Then Nakin could persuade
himself that HE alone was capable of
breaking the slave’s back.
“What peasant would do this for his
prince?” Assawin snorted. “What
peasant would be so tough ….? For
some royal brat? Who doesn’t give a
fig …?” Standing there for hours.
Bearing an impossible weight above his
head. There was something between
these two, Assawin had persuaded
himself. To put himself through that.
To endure such torture. For the sake
of some royal brat? No simple villager
was passing through and getting
himself caught. Wrong time, wrong
place. Not even the most stupid of
peasant would put himself out like
that.