No matter how much Roderick argued, pleaded, or probably considered poisoning Kaan out and locking him up in the dungeon, it didn't matter. He had his reasons, and in his mind, they were perfectly logical—whatever 'logical' meant in Kaan's world.
Then came the smile. Kaan clasped his hands together, looking at Roderick with an expression that sent a shiver down his spine. Roderick had served him long enough to recognize all of Kaan's smiles, and this one wasn't relief, nor was it joy.
No, this was pity. The kind of pity you'd give a baby chick proudly declaring it was going to move a mountain. A deep, tragic, oh-you-poor-thing kind of pity.
"You will leave tomorrow. Be ready before sunset," Kaan ordered, his tone leaving no room for debate. "It's cloudy here anyway—if the sun doesn't make an appearance, we might even leave earlier."
