ETAN
He couldn't stomach the behavior of the other young Lords at the feast. True, none were at his table, cornered as he and his parents had been, at the back of the feast hall. But they surrounded him at other tables, and he shook his head at their stupid bellows and drunken arrogance.
He was reminded of the man who'd put hands on his Ayleth earlier that night and almost bit through his own tongue, fighting himself to not seek the man out and challenge him to a duel for her honor.
He knew she couldn't see him in this crowd, but he could at least watch her. He'd been careful to take a seat that faced the front table for that reason. Borsche had eyed him suspiciously, but not said anything since his parents were there.
Dear Lord, he was going to have to tell his father.
