That push of regret was everything. But it happened, and now things were forever changed... -- Pixels By Kris
The regrets of the past poison the decisions of the here and now. Valiant Stormwight Hallowfine Whitekeep, third of the name, had watched his older brother Purity roll himself in debauchery and excess. There wasn't a girl in all the Earldom that he hadn't sweet-talked into a bedchamber or, in extremis, an alley. And why not? Bastards of the Earl's line were a guaranteed pension for the lifetime of the child.
Valiant, aged only fourteen, had had to listen to Father yell at Purity about his excesses.
"I haven't put my blood to the oathstone and why should I bother?" slurred Purity, drunk again. "I've done the maths. I'm going to sire the next demon lord and after that, what do oaths matter?"
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