"Is that what he said? That I'm the one who killed her? As I said, he's confused. I would never do such a thing."
Emperor Tatsu snorted. Alvar's eyes narrowed, and he pressed his blade tip into the emperor's throat.
"Go on," the emperor said. "Please."
"There is no more to say. My son is confused. He ran from me, but I am his father. I understand, and I forgive him." He turned to those assembled below. "Gavril? Join me."
Gavril hesitated. Moria murmured, "Go. We know," which meant that she did not doubt his loyalty, and that he was safer going along with his father's delusion. They were also safer if he did, putting him in a position where he might be able to do something. Tyrus gave the smallest nod, seconding Moria's words, and Gavril stiffly made his way to the dais.
It wasn't until Gavril started up the steps that Moria had another, horrible, thought. What if Alvar was tricking Gavril? Was that not exactly what he dealt in--tricks and misdirection? Get Gavril on that dais so he could punish him for his betrayal?
Moria rocked forward, ready to run and grab Gavril back, knowing even as she did that it was too late, that if she'd been mistaken . . .
She was not. While Alvar did not let his gaze linger affectionately on Gavril, as the emperor did with Tyrus, he glanced over, satisfaction glowing in his eyes. Satisfaction with a flash of arrogance and self-pride. Is he not a fine young warrior? Of course--he is my son.
It was not truly unlike Emperor Tatsu with Tyrus. Except with Tyrus, the emperor had no doubt of his son's loyalty. Alvar did . . . and refused to believe it. He had deluded himself, perhaps as much as he had about the crimes that had gotten him exiled. An ego that did not allow for the possibility he'd been wrong--about his friend, his exile, or his son.
"There," Alvar said as Gavril approached him. "His loyalty to you, Jiro, and to your fool of a son? Temporary and convenient. My son spends too much time in his head. I would not wish otherwise, or I'd have one like that." He waved a dismissive hand at Tyrus. "But a young man who thinks too much also questions too much. Doubts too much. He will outgrow that and be a brilliant emperor. Sadly, your son will not outgrow his foolishness. No more than you did."
"You seem quite fixated on insulting Tyrus," the emperor said. "Careful, Alvar, or we might think you see him as a threat. I hear he faced you in single combat, and you ran from it. Fled a fight you could not win? Tell me again how you did not run from the battlefield."
Alvar pushed his blade tip into the emperor's throat, blood trickling down. When Emperor Tatsu didn't even flinch, Alvar closed his eyes briefly, as if getting his temper under control. Behind him, Gavril shifted, his gaze fixed on Alvar, his blade still in hand.
Could Gavril kill his father? Risk eternal damnation for it? Even if he had the will, his father made him stand too far away, where Alvar could still see him. Wanting to trust his son . . . but knowing not to press the matter.
"I speak of Tyrus because I am reminding you of his faults," Alvar said. "I'm helping you to make a decision, Jiro."
Now he got his reaction, the emperor tensing, his gaze swinging to Tyrus.
Alvar chuckled. "You don't even make an effort to hide your affections, do you? As big a fool as he is. As soft
, too. You love him best because he reminds you of yourself. That is a breathtaking act of ego, my old friend."
"No," the emperor said carefully. "I love all my sons for the young men they are, for all the ways they are not like me."
"Oh, such pretty words. Let's test that love."
Alvar waved and Moria looked over to see the three imperial princes standing together. The fourth . . . ? She looked around quickly, only to see him on the floor. Dead. She sucked in a breath. In the chaos, she hadn't even realized one of Tyrus's brothers had perished.
She was still staring at the prince's body when Tyrus lunged, and she thought he'd only just realized his half brother had died, and it didn't matter if they'd never shown him a moment's kindness, he would still care. She looked over, though, to see his gaze elsewhere--and before she could see what he was running toward, he stopped short, swinging back to her, his blade rising.
That's when she felt cold steel against the back of her neck.
"Don't prove yourself to be the fool you seem, boy," Alvar said. "Lower your weapons to the floor. That goes for every armed man--and woman--here. Blades on the ground or I put mine through your emperor's throat."
When Tyrus hesitated, the blade dug deeper into Moria's neck. She did not flinch, but Tyrus still put his blades down.
"Good, now retreat to her side and stay there. My man will remain where he is. If you move from that spot, Tyrus, the girl dies."
Rage whipped through Moria, and she wanted to say it didn't matter, that Tyrus should pay her predicament no mind. She would say it if he could kill Alvar. But there was no chance of that.
When Daigo growled, Alvar laughed. "Same goes for you, wildcat, and let's hope you truly are imbued with a human soul and can understand me. Otherwise, your dear Keeper may die for nothing."
Daigo pressed against her, as if to say, I'm here, but he stopped growling. That's when Moria looked up at the dais and realized why Tyrus had leaped forward. Guards had brought one of his brothers up. The other two--the crown prince and his next younger brother--stood where they'd been, not needing anyone to restrain them, their expressions saying they were simply glad they hadn't been chosen.
"Kneel," Alvar said to the prince beside him.
The young man did.