For one brief moment, the commander glanced away. Telling.
“You did, didn’t you?” The heat of Yarif’s anger chilled. “Did you kill my brother too?”
The commander met Yarif’s glare, throat bobbing with a swallow. “I defeated King Lleval. I’d like to tell you he fought honorably, but I’m not prone to lies. In the end, he shielded himself behind his own people. He died a coward’s death.” The commander offered no hint of sympathy or apology, only a tightly clenched jaw. “I was not there when Crown Prince Barostian met his end.”
“You murdered my father!”
“I defeated your father in battle. A battleheinitiated!”
Every bit of the fight left Yarif. He wanted to see the children, then retire to his room to magically find time reversed to before soldiers arrived. Given a second chance, he’d take Emile and Adrina and flee, whether his father approved or not. He murmured, “I don’t want the throne.”
A flash of surprise momentarily crossed the commander’s stern features. He quickly resumed his glowering countenance. “Do you expect me to believe you? Now tell me your part in your father’s plot against the emperor.”
What? Was Yarif to be tried for treason? “I… I already told you. I had no part. My fath… King Lleval didn’t discuss such matters with me.” He didn’t add,My father considered me beneath his notice most of the time.
“Why not? You’re his son.”
“I’m the spare heir. The king poured his efforts into the crown prince. I knew of the plot only when informed of Cormiran troops marching our way.” That Baro hadn’t confided in Yarif still rankled.
The commander studied Yarif for long moments. Hoping for a confession? Yarif had nothing to confess. Father hadn’t trusted him to be brutal. Yarif would never have agreed to such a plot anyway. His family had sworn fealty to the emperor. End of story.
He fought not to squirm under the scrutiny.
“What did you know?” Commander Draylon growled in low, threatening tones, sitting forward in his chair to put his nose a handsbreadth away from Yarif’s face.
Yarif swallowed hard. “All I know is what I was told by a guard. That Father conspired to murder the emperor and leave the empire during the ensuing chaos.”
“And you knew nothing of this beforehand?” The rage in the commander’s eyes belied his calm tone.
“I told you, no.”Inhale, exhale and keep your breathing steady.Though what did Yarif’s performance matter? If this man judged him a traitor, Yarif would be killed. How? Hanged? Run through with a sword? Or maybe one of the barbaric torture rituals the emperor should have outlawed long ago. Whatever they planned for him, Yarif would meet his fate with his head held high.
The commander rested his elbows on the table, steepling his fingers. “Do you want Renvalle to leave the empire?”
“I see no benefit for us in doing so. We trade with the other parts of the empire, and in return, we’re offered protection from enemies.” Or so Father used to say publicly.
“Have you contacted anyone in kingdoms that haven’t joined the empire?”
At least the commander posed the question in a way Yarif could answer without damning himself. “No, I haven’t.”
“If you don’t want the kingdom, what do you want?”
Did the commander have to keep staring? Yarif took a deep breath, then told a truth a blood drenched savage wouldn’t understand. “All I want is to keep my siblings safe. My mother’s family lives in Draige. Allow us to go there.”
The commander glowered, sending the guard behind Yarif a step closer. Did he expect an attack? “And risk them becoming our enemy and using you as leverage?”
Was everything political with this man? “Do what you want with me, but allow them to go.”
“Then we risk the same thing.”
Yarif’s nerves snapped, sending him to his feet. “They’re children! You can’t possibly be planning them harm. Why keep them alive this long if you only plan to kill them later?” His blood ran cold. Suddenly, there wasn’t enough air in the room. He braced his hands on the table, summoning his courage. “You plan to make a spectacle of them. You’ll have to kill me first.” He eyed his confiscated knives, lined up in a row at the far end of the table. One moment. One knife.
The commander cleared his throat, redirecting Yarif’s attention. “I do not plan to harm children.” How telling that he didn’t addor you.
Yarif bared his teeth. “You’re not the emperor.” He’d heard many things about the emperor over the years. Compassion wasn’t one of them. Father broke promises. These political types must set their examples. Yarif wanted to spit in the commander’s face.
The commander stayed annoyingly calm. “No, I’m not the emperor, but I like to believe he values my opinion.”
The captain snickered. The commander glared. “Captain Rufe? I believe you have troops to inspect, do you not?”
