Chapter 62: The Ninth Seal, Part 4
Raffé followed him back through the ruins and the winding path between the rocks and mountain, back into camp where the familiar smells of people, burning fires, and roasting meat filled the air, dampening the fetid, rotting smell of Zyke Lorn Fall.
"Why does everyone keep staring at me?" Raffé asked in a low voice, fighting an urge to hunch in, make himself as small and uninteresting as possible.
Kristof shot him a brief grin. "Until now, it was an unspoken thing between a small group of us that you would become the next Commander. But now you carry Telmé's sword, which as I said, makes it official. Even if he takes it back when he wakes, the declaration has been made: You are Telmé's heir."
"I have not even been a Prince of the Blood a year," Raffé said. "It seems a rash decision."