"My lord, I am a warrior, not a nursemaid," growled Tornac.
"Nonetheless, you will be this boy's guardian," replied the king, calm as a snake circling it's prey.
"Do you not think my time would be put to better use doing something else?" cried Tornac, his frustration escaping him, "Let me train soldiers, take an army and go fight the Varden! There's no point in-"
"Silence! You dare disobey my direct orders? I could have you beheaded for your insolence. The duty to raise this boy is yours, whether you like it or not. You are to guard him, teach him, train him. And if I hear that you shirk your duty then I prey you have neither friends nor family. Am I understood?" These last words he almost hissed, the threat hanging dark and menacing in the air.
"Yes, your Majesty," responded Tornac glaring at the carpet of the throne room.