Chapter B4C75 - Free Will
Tyron and his uncle sat in silence for several long moments, breathing deeply, eyes closed, each enjoying being in the presence of the other. All of a sudden, it was hard for the Necromancer to understand how he’d been able to keep his family at arm’s length for so long. Despite everything that had happened, everything he had done, and all the ways he had changed, Worthy didn’t see him any differently than he had before.
“I wouldn’t mind some of Aunt Meg’s soup,” Tyron muttered to himself, thinking of the rich flavour of the broth he’d enjoyed since childhood, glistening with fat and chunks of meat fallen straight off the bone.
“You look as thin as a fence post,” Worthy chuckled. “When your aunt gets ahold of you, she’ll put more than soup in you before you can leave the table.”
“I’ve been eating,” Tyron said, defensively.
“What? Paper and air? There’s no meat on your bones!”
Tyron looked down at himself.
“It’s not that bad.”
“Bullshit, lad. Respectfully, bullshit.”
Maybe he had neglected to eat more than he should have, especially over the last few weeks. Well, he definitely had, but so what? He had an entire province to bring to its knees.