We meet Warin's brother:
Far away, a Prince of Tremont sat before a mirror in Tremont Keep, contemplating not his own reflection, but the scene in the cottage. "Warin finally grew careless," he said. "With a wench--who'd have thought my brother the hermit would risk a woman, with his birth prophecy. Wine, boy."Read more -->
"Yes, Your Highness." A blond young man just out of boyhood rose gracefully, filled the Prince's cup and returned to sitting on his knees at his master's feet. He followed his master's gaze into the mirror; a sort of haze obscured the image. Gian hadn't seen the man in the reflection for ten years, when he himself had been a boy of seven; just before he exiled himself, Warin had come to Casalaria, the seat of the Duke of Valleysmouth and Gian's childhood home. At the time, the Heir's close resemblance to Gian's master had shocked him.
The brothers still looked alike, he thought, looking up at Hildin: dark hair, deep brown eyes, the angular planes of their faces. While Warin's face was soft, intent on his woman, Hildin's was hard. He had all the dominance Gian himself lacked, and he'd obeyed his cousin as soon as he'd come to think of anything at all; Hildin was his master in everything.