“You used Aesthesia with intent to perform reconnaissance against one of the king’s most trusted advisors, with the intention of learning the gods only know what, to use in ways I’m sure we cannot even fathom. It doesn’t surprise me that you would squander my generous stipend on gambling and whores, but I am astounded that you were senseless enough to use an illegal tactic in some ridiculous attempt to uncover some semblance of a lie when you yourself know your Aesthesic abilities are subpar at best.” Flavian’s voice was nothing more than a sharp hiss, the sibilance of his words emphasised in his anger.
“I didn’t do it for fun!” Leander exclaimed. “You need to understand, Lord Wester Haldon and his associates, whoever they are, they?—”
“Stop, Leander. Whatever you think you’ve discovered, do you think you are so great as to uncover some great mystery in the grandstand of that infernal racetrack, no doubt intoxicated and completely without wit or forethought? As if you are unique in your investigative abilities that the integrity of the city would rest in your hands?”
“I—what?”
“Venser has been after this man for months. And he is certainly better at Aesthesia than you could ever hope to be. The black-market dealings were not unknown to us, and you would have known that if you spent any reasonable amount of time beingthe son you were supposed to be when you were dropped on my doorstep.”
Flavian said nothing for a moment, allowing Leanderthe chance to process the fact that he was not, in fact, the centre of the universe.
“This was supposed to be a clean slate after your fall from grace. The whole point of your punishment from the divine court was to teach you some humility and circumspection. You clearly have learnt nothing. You have wasted every opportunity presented to you and nothing I nor your brothers could do would set you on the right path.”
Leander could do little more than nod. He agreed.
He had even started this war; he had inadvertently given Haldon the means to create a very lucrative under-the-table deal with Desanne to sell his arms and ammunition. If this war came to fruition, as so many people feared, Leander had a direct hand in it, and he had even made matters worse. He saw this now.
“Indentured servitude, Leander. That is the punishment decreed.”
The demigod had seen his father in his work enough now to recognise the strategy: he would share the most explosive information without warning to limit his target’s recovery and rebuttal.
And it worked. “Slavery.” His skin temperature dropped a few degrees.
“Yes,” Flavian responded with a smile. No, it was a smirk. It was the same expression he used when he was talking to the public or spreading his political agenda among the unwitting aristocracy. Leander wasn’t fooled into the notion that his father genuinely cared about his wellbeing.
“And my mother agreed to this?”
“You forget that, when I agreed to take you in, yourmother informed me of the circumstances that led to your fall from grace,” Flavian replied, his expression now retuned to impenetrable. “You have started the cogs turning which will lead two otherwise peaceful nations to war. And now, as a mortal, you have seemingly spent every moment that you weren’t drunk or high or bedding some whore in furthering your goal to bring that war closer to my door. I’ve thought about it a great deal, Leander, and I have concluded that you don’t need a reason. You thrive when surrounded by chaos.”
Locking eyes with his father, Leander knew that telling the truth of Machus’ influence, or his visit the other day, would fall on deaf ears. “Perhaps you are right. You are the last person I would confide in, though, so you’ll never know.” Leander swallowed his doubts and misgiving, doubling down on what he knew to be fact: that everyone would always assume the worst of him.
He closed his eyes and rested his head back against the stone wall.
Flavian continued. “You may be divine, but you are young, with a mind utterly impenetrable to common sense. You’re so sure of everything, with cast iron convictions and an absolute dearth of conscience. You go through your existence without any thought for the consequences of what you do. Even your omission to act is dangerous. Were you not who you are, I would be more lenient with you. But dangerous times engender dangerous mistakes. We simply do not have the luxury of allowing you to play with lives of the innocent people in this kingdom.”
Leander’s eyes suddenly opened. “So the will of the King’s Justice is to have me out of the way? Silenced? Andunder the watchful eye of… who? Not you, surely? Not a slave in my own home.”
“Of course not.” Flavian waved a hand at the foolish notion. “You are to be put up for auction. At a high enough starting bid to act as a deterrent for all except those who have the means and power to control you.”
“Fine.” Leander lifted his chin, because he was nothing if not stubborn, and he wouldn’t allow his father to see the fear he felt growing in his stomach. He exhaled, giving himself a few extra seconds to steady his nerves. The sensation of anxiety was new to him and, as a result, he struggled to name it for few moments. His hands felt sweaty, and he resisted the urge to wipe them on his trousers.
All the while, he was very aware of his father’s piercing gaze on him. He had to say something. Finally, he settled on asking: “When?”
“Two days hence. You will be brought to the palace. A closed auction. Few invitees.”
Leander nodded. It seemed like he was doing a lot of that in recent days.
His father still stood there.
“Are you finished, or is there more you wanted to say?”
“Yes, but I’m concerned that any more will put an unnecessary strain on your already fragile mental state.”
“Oh, I had no idea you cared so much,” Leander bit out impishly.
Flavian didn’t reply, so Leander took that as a sign that he had won for now. His stomach was still churning and he was developing a headache. He just wanted to go to sleep. But he wouldn’t give his father the satisfaction of seeinghim even weaker than the pathetic creature he must have appeared to be.
“Where is Verin?” Lender didn’t ask after Venser. His other brother had never warmed to him and had no doubt accepted the accusations laid on Leander’s head without a second thought. Verin, however…
