But—
He realized suddenly that he was a totally free agent, detached and uninvolved. Van Alen had led him forth from Iowa Province, and van Alen was dead. He owed nothing to van Alen, nothing to Iowa.
He stood alone, unknown and unwanted in the world of the Twelve Empires, able to shape his own destinies. And Miguel was offering him a title, a home, an allegiance, at the cost of an assassination.
Well, why not? he asked himself. My hand is free. Why not strike down a Duke?
He moistened his lips. "I'll consider it," he said. "But first—let me see the girl."
Alone, waiting for Miguel to return, Kesley tried to think.
Kill Winslow?
Kill a Duke—an Immortal?
The idea seemed incredible, almost obscene. It was like saying, "Snuff out a star," or, "Destroy a world." The Dukes were centers of their universes, and one did not kill them.