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Chapter 112: Mother’s Face (2)
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... ave it as the King Killer, who freed the people without hope and voice.”
—Aston von Rosenmahl
I study myself in the hand mirror, and the face staring back is still mine, not Lieben’s or anybody else’s. A sharp nose, high cheekbones, brows with an elegance that softens nothing, lips set in quiet defiance. No beard. Eyes are the clear, unyielding azure of my bloodline. Three strands of hair have fallen over my forehead, and I don’t bother pushing them aside.
“Handsome boy. ...
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