Marc had observed some of his cousins in similar situations. They would cry foul and have the instructor removed for forgetting their place. However, Marc had grown fond of Bertrand, who gave him plenty of reasons to avoid his father of late.
As a precaution he looked around and noticed they were still alone in one of the isolated quarters of the keep. The cool spring breeze was soothing against his cheeks, even if his nose radiated with heat. That’s going to be tender for a few days.
“Quit that,” Marc ordered.
Marc hated anything that reminded him of his father. Everytime the title Lord was used, he would choke back the urge to wretch.
“There are no rules in war,” Marc replied.
Disclaimer: This excerpt from Man of War is currently in development. There may be typos, errors, omissions, inconsistencies and so forth.
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