Page 16

A Private Word

VEYRION

My father’s timing could not be worse. I was basking in my triumph, having finally gotten my little Oblation on the sharp side of my conversational dagger after taking several cuts from hers.

But with my father standing there, visibly fuming, I’m forced to cede my hard-won ground and dismiss her.

“You will return straightaway to the room, without dilly or dally,” I tell her.

Fortunately, Sallie Rose seems eager to escape our conversation and refrains from saying or doing any of the many things that might provoke further questions from my father.

Unfortunately, her departure leaves my father free to ask me questions.

“What is this I hear about you aborting a raid and letting an entire group of trespassers go with their lives intact?”

I assumed that bit of military gossip would find its way back to him eventually. I had only hoped that eventually would not come so soon.

“They were but a click from the Solmane border. Having almost made it, I did not wish to bother my horde.”

“Since when has demonstrating our might been considered a bother?” my father demands, stepping to the side of the table where Sallie Rose previously sat. “Does this have something to do with that Eryx Oblation?”

I do not reply, but apparently, my silence is answer enough for him.

“Have you forgotten the point of these three nights? It is to prove she holds no sway over you.”

“She does not. I will sacrifice her to the Eryx moon tomorrow, happily,” I assure my father.

And myself.

“Naturally, you will. I only mean to offer whatever assistance I can in conquering your bride for Eryx—and then getting on with the business of having an heir.”

My father frets his hands over Sallie Rose’s abandoned plate.

“I will never forgive myself for not insisting your brother use Lady Yilara as a vessel to carry his child before he set off on that last campaign. He was commended to Eryx, but without legacy. Forgive an old king’s weakness around wanting to ensure we have a prince of good stone to carry on the family name. ”

Weakness. That is what we call emotions like grief and regret.

And I understand my father’s more than most.

“I, too, wish this Eryx business over sooner rather than later.”

Only… I feared my reasons were not the same as my father’s.

While I, too, knew I was the last chance at a full-blooded heir to take the throne, I also feared the speed at which the Eryx Oblation was getting under my stone.

“I understand my duty,” I nevertheless assure him.

“Then is letting trespassers go without reckoning the best tact for the future conqueror of Solmane?” he asks. “What if word gets out?”

“Father, this is the first time in our entire solars of night raids that we’ve let a trespassing party go. I’m sure our history of violence speaks for itself. We are the dread legend told around fires throughout our lands and beyond. One slight mercy will not change that.”

“Did you at least take their purse and any supplies they might have?”

As opposed to answering that I did not, I tell him, “Father, I’m considering a decrease in the taxes we levy upon these lands.”

The glow in his eyes flares. “Why would you do that?”

“Because our stores are overfull, as are our livestock pens. We do not need so much food from our breadbaskets.”

“Who has told you about this overflow issue?”

I already know what he’ll say if he finds out I’ve taken anything the Eryx Oblation said under consideration.

“Lyxnia is overly stressed by the amount of waste.”

“Lyxnia.” The former king’s voice sharpens like a cracked blade.

“Do you speak of Gravel Matreon Lyxnia, the female who oversees the castle staff? Why ever would a king concern himself with the stresses of such a lowly figure? When I was the ruler of our land, my only concern was the expansion of our coffers.”

Indeed, my father is a brilliant strategist—the king who established our tax system and the concept of surge pricing for major Pridehaven events. But...

“We have enough coin to endow our kingdom for a coming century. I wonder when enough is enough.”

“When we rule all we survey.”

My father comes around the table to speak to me directly. His height is only slightly less than my own. “Your brother died to expand our empire. Will you sully his sacrifice by refusing to secure the one victory that will place his name in the annals of Lunaterra history?”

Shame and guilt chip away at my new idea to revisit his high-tariff scheme. My father is right.

The only way to reconcile my brother’s death is to seize the victory in Solmane that he could not.

“I was grieved to lose your brother.” My father places a hand on my shoulder. “But I believe you will be our greatest king yet. Better even than Ereon the Oathkeeper, who struck the Aralyssean Princess deal with those humans.”

“You will sacrifice this princess,” he continues, “and lead our horde to our destined victory over Solmane. Then, in another twenty-five solars, when it is time to sacrifice another Eryx Bride, we will expand our sights to Thyraelis and perhaps even Emberglade.”

His eyes glow bright with pride. “Your era will be known throughout Lunaterra, the greatest one in our history, I believe. I only hope I live to see at least the first twenty-five solars of it.”

I resented him for interrupting my conversation with the Eryx Oblation earlier, but now I am glad.

“You are right, Father. I look forward to proving myself a most worthy king for our people.”

With that, I take my leave, my heart once again hardening to stone as I store away the weak feelings I should not have allowed myself to indulge.

The Eryx Oblation’s punishment will be delayed no longer.

I will carry it out forthwith.

This time, without mercy.