Altaïr clenched his fists. Shame, anger, and fury twisted his expression until he looked more like a wild beast struggling to restrain its instincts. For a moment, Lina almost thought he might lose control and pounce on her, tearing her apart with his bare hands.
"Oh, and there is one more thing I should mention. It seems the war in Cuman is approaching its end. I heard that the Sultan is extremely displeased that the Altai became involved in the struggle for the throne. Apparently, he has declared that he will make the name Altai disappear from the world. What do you and your brothers and relatives intend to do next? Will you seek the protection of some lord and become his subordinates, or will you go begging to the Pope, who is already facing his own troubles and may soon lose his position?"
Lina completely ignored Altaïr's threatening expression. She rose from her chair and, despite the considerable difference in their heights, looked down at him with an air of superiority.
