Alistair spent the day teaching himself to be worse than he was, and that turned out harder than learning anything new.
Tobian Marrow came from the Halversen branch of the Marrow house, and the Halversen Marrows were not Edgeform people.
They were Veilform, the defensive school, generations of cautious eastern nobles who had always valued a son who came home over a son who won.
Due had built the cover all the way down. The training history was real on paper, lodged in the eastern registries, paid for and aged like something no one would ever drink.
Tobian fenced Veilform at Class C. Respectable for a third son, and nothing more than that.
The trouble was that Alistair had Class C in him already. He had earned it honestly, in his years with the Upholders of Law and Justice, before the rest of what he was had arrived to live on top of it.
