The Novice

There's always a bit of truth in each rumour, the trouble is finding out which bit. - Tayend

Your supposed to drink wine, my friend, not breathe it.

Ranel had said that the murderer wore a ring with a red gemstone. Looking at Akkarin's hands, she was almost disappointed to see they were bare. Not even a mark to hint that a ring might have been worn regularly. His fingers were long and elegant, yet masculine...

Believe me. There was nothing good in always being second place. Next to you, I may as well have been invisible - at least when it came to the ladies. If I'd known, we'd both end up as bachelors, I wouldn't have been so jealous of you.' 'Jealous?' Akkarin's smile faded. He turned away to stare at the horizon. 'No. Don't be jealous.

I suppose if Akkarin came to rescue you all the time, people would say you weren't a good choice. The novices are all jealous of you, not realising that they would be in the same situation if they were the High Lord's favourite, even if they are from the Houses. Any novice he chose would be a target. Always expected to prove themselves.

Most people would not open a door unless they knew what lay beyond, and even if they opened the door by mistake, they would find an uninteresting room beyond.