Now here he was thirty-five, meant to be protecting the only person he'd ever loved and the woman he was quickly falling in love with, and all he'd done was fail them over and over. Three failures right in a row. The king would order him executed for such egregious failure and Omar would go without protest.
"I wonder how many secrets you know. Secrets you could share, sell, trade."
Damn. Omar had really been hoping he was wrong about why they'd kept him alive. The hilarious part was that he didn't know any secrets. They'd been retired, and Idn had been broken. No one had come to visit him unless it was in a desperate bid for some bit of information they couldn't find anywhere else, or on rare occasions for advice on how to deal with this problem or that person.
No one had come to visit Bana who wasn't a local villager he met after moving into the house. He'd been a lonely old man largely content with that.