Chapter 117 Chapter 117

I gave up studying the scroll I was trying to study, so what if I figured out the ancient spirit anyway?Verity would find what he wanted.So, I turned over and lay on the bed staring at the ceiling. Even though the surroundings were still and silent, my heart was not at peace.My connection to Verity was like a hook in my flesh, and it must have felt like a hooked fish struggling to get out of the line.My relationship with Nighteyes is on a deeper and more subtle level, but whenever it's there, those green eyes glow softly in the dark corners of my heart.These parts never sleep, never rest, never stand still, and that constant connection is starting to wear me out.

Hours later, when the candle was dying out and the flame was fading, a slight change in the air let me know that Chade had opened his silent door.I got up and went upstairs to find him, but every step I took on the stairs only intensified the anger inside me.This anger is not like people growling or fighting with each other, but from fatigue and panic, like being hurt.It's the kind of anger that makes one want to stop everything and simply say, "I can't take it anymore." "Can't stand what?" Chade asked me.He bent down to do some mixing and grinding work on the stained stone table, and then looked up at me with sincere concern in his tone, which made me finally calm down and look at the person who was listening to me.A tall, thin old assassin with a pock-marked face and almost white hair, wearing the familiar gray wool robes that were always stained or slightly burnt.I wonder how many men he killed for the king, only to kill for a word or a nod from King Shrewd, unquestionably true to his oath.Regardless of the assassinations, Chade himself was actually a gentle man.I suddenly wanted to ask him a question, which was more urgent than answering his question.

"Chade," I asked, "have you ever killed someone for yourself?" He looked surprised. "For myself?" "yes." "Killing to protect my own life?" "Yes. I don't mean killing for the king, but killing... to make your life easier." He snorted. "Of course not." Then he looked at me with weird eyes. "Why not?" I pressed. He showed an expression of disbelief. "But nobody kills people just for convenience, and that's wrong. It's called murder, boy." "Unless you kill for the king."

"Yes, unless killing for the king's sake," he agreed easily. "Chade, what's the difference? What's the difference between doing it for yourself and doing it for Shrewd?" He sighed and stopped the stirring work at hand, walked to the end of the table and sat on the high stool. "I remember asking the same question myself, but not to others, but to myself, because when I was your age, my mentor passed away." He looked me firmly in the eyes. "It depends on one's beliefs, boy. Do you believe in kings? Kings are supposed to be more meaningful than your half-brother, or your grandfather, more cunning than a good old man, or the only good and honest man." It really matters. He must be the king, the core of a kingdom, the hub of the wheel. If he is such an important person, if you believe that the six duchies are worth maintaining, and the well-being of the people will be more guaranteed because the king does justice, then , and the answer will come out.”

"In this way, you can kill for him." "That's right." "Have you ever committed a murder against your own judgment?" "You've had a lot of questions tonight," he warned me calmly. "Maybe you've left me alone for too long before I have time to think about these things. When we meet every night, we always talk about other things, and I'm busy, so I don't think about it too much, but now I think gone." He nodded slowly. "Thinking isn't always... comfortable. It's always good, but it's always uncomfortable. Yes, I've killed people against my own judgment, but it goes back to what I just said Faith. I must believe that the man who orders me knows more than I do, and is wiser than I am.”

I was silent for a long while, but Chade relaxed. "Come in, don't stand in the doorway. Let's have some drinks, and then I'll talk to you—" "Have you ever killed by your own judgment alone? For the good of the whole kingdom?" Chade looked at me for a moment, troubled.Then he turned his head away and stared down at his old hands. He rubbed the pale and silky skin together, and his fingers touched the conspicuous red acne scars. "I don't make those judgments." He suddenly looked up at me. "I've never accepted that burden, and I don't want to have that concern. It's not for us, boy. Those are the king's decisions."

"I'm not a 'boy,'" I pointed out, startling myself, "I'm Fitz the Horseman." "Emphasis on Fitz," he pointed sternly, "you are the illegitimate son of the abdicated crown prince. He abdicated the throne and freed himself from judgment. You are not king, Fitz, not even of a real king." Son. We are assassins." "Then why did we stand aside while the real king was poisoned?" I then asked bluntly. "I've seen it, and you've seen it. He was tempted to take the herb that made him lose his mind, and when he couldn't think, he was tempted even more to take the herb that made him even stupider. We know the source is at hand , I doubt its true origin, and we watch him sink and sink. Why? What kind of belief is that?"

His words stabbed me like a knife. "I don't know where your faith is. I thought it was in me. I know more than you, and I serve the King." This time it was my turn to be dumbfounded.After a while I walked slowly across the room to the cupboard where Chade kept his wine and glasses. I carefully filled two glasses of wine and put them on a tray. I put the tray on the table by the fireplace and sat down. On the stone pedestal of the fireplace.After a while, Chade came and sat in his upholstered chair, sipping from his glass from the tray. "The past year has been difficult for us."

"You rarely come to me, and when you do, it's with secrets." I tried not to sound accusatory, but it didn't help. Chade let out a short laugh. "And you're an automatic questioner, does it really bother you?" He laughed again, ignoring my exasperated look.When he finished, he took another sip of his drink and looked at me, interest still dancing in his dark eyes. "Don't stare at me, boy," he told me. "You have always expected twice as much from me, or more, than I have expected from you. In my mind, a master has the right to expect faith and trust from his pupils."

"You have!" I said after a moment, "and you're right, I do have secrets of my own, and I expect you to trust them as honest and noble secrets, but I can tell you my secrets and You haven't. Whenever I go into the king's chambers, I see Wallace's smoke and herbs working on him. I want to kill Wallace so that the king will regain his sanity. Next, I want ...complete this quest. I will remove the source of these poisons."