Dorian went to work on Bull's leg with the familiar dull green glow of magic. His fingers slowly worked the muscle there, trying to get the effect as deep as possible. He regretted, sometimes, not looking into the skill more. But it hadn't been the work of a magister's son.

"All that for money." Dorian sighed. They would need more of it soon, and he bloody well knew it. "It's such a pity. And it still hurts my pride a little, not to be able to throw daddy's money around. Maker, that makes me sound awful."