Harren was arguing with several people at once. He divided his complaints between Bianca, Zishang, and even Godwin himself. He was throwing glasses, kicking over chairs, all whilst Mara held his arm and told him he was right and they were wrong.

  Godwin slammed his fist onto the council table and demanded silence. They ignored him. He did it a second time. They ignored him again.

  “We should parade him through the streets as an example! He made a fool out of all of us, killing our people!” Harren shouted. “I will march down to those dungeons myself!”

  “You will not do anything the king doesn’t command,” Zishang said. “And he wants nothing to do with your plans.”

  “The little warrior has found his voice,” Harren scoffed. “I am your prince—”

  “And he is my king,” Zishang interrupted. “I respect the name that you hold, Prince Harren, but my loyalty lies with he who sits on the Blacksteel Throne.”

  Mara whispered something devious into Harren’s ear before he gave his next order. “Killian.” Harren pointed his sickle at him. “I order you to kill Zishang.”

  Before Killian could grab his sword, Zishang had the tip of his naginata pushed threateningly against the Blood Swordsman’s chest. He stared at Zishang flatly, growling, waiting for the order to be repeated by Harren.

  “Grab your sword and it shall be the last thing you do,” Zishang hissed. “Prince Harren, the princess teases your mind with power. Listen to your king.”

  “We should execute him in private,” Bianca argued. “A public display is barbaric, but execution is just. Quick, a clean swing of an executioner’s axe, my squire can do it.”

  “Fuck you, Bianca!” Harren yelled. “Your suggestions do not tower over my own desire. I am the true-blooded prince, you are a filthy pretender, hogging our name like it belongs to you.”

  Bianca summoned Dragonhammer, raising it weightlessly like it were a simple sword. “I am tired of your insults, Harren. Mara, sit down and stop whispering into his ear.”

  “Is that a threat?” Mara whispered. “You hear that, my darling? Bianca thinks she can take you on; Bianca thinks she can take on all of you… show her where she belongs… show her who the strength of Vatanil is.”

  Harren met the Dragonhammer with his sickle, backed by the power of the God Arm. “You never belonged on this council,” he told Bianca. “This is long overdue.”

  Godwin snapped from his silence and slammed the table again, this time using the God Arm to announce his anger. The table took the power into its magical bolts and dispersed it into the floor, rattling the room like an earthquake for several seconds.

  He stood without a word and butted heads with Harren, grabbing Mara by the throat and throwing her into the corner on her knees.

  “Zishang,” Godwin growled. “If that woman opens her mouth, cut out her tongue and have it sent to my brother’s quarters as a reminder that I am the king.” He grabbed the back of Harren’s head angrily. “I need you, brother. Stop. Stop listening to her. Listen to me, or I will make it so you cannot listen again.”

  “Yes, my king,” he said, coming to his senses. “I am sorry, my brother, I am enraged by these vermin that infiltrated our walls.”

  “As are we all,” Bianca added. “But Harren, you mustn’t expect the common people to hoist up the Valan banners from the whispers of Mara of all people.”

  “Mind yourself.”

  “No.” Bianca unsummoned her hammer. “You watch yourself, Harren—that little bitch is loved by you, not the people.”

  Zishang lowed his naginata with an understand nod to Killian. He turned away trustingly.

  “Bianca is right,” Zishang added. “I heard their whispers as we came into Keep Blacksteel. They are angry. They expect an answer of justice from their king.”

  “I will not give justice until the other two have been found,” Godwin declared. “This decision is final.”

  Bianca chuckled as she sat back in her chair. “Then you must do something that you will hate, Godwin. You must sent Stroke to find the other two—he spends his days on the Sentinels, in the shadows, I cannot remember the last time I saw his face in light. Whenever he speaks, it is from a dark corner.”

  “This is a wise decision, my king,” Zishang seconded. “Prince Stroke is always in the place I least expect him… he could already know where the other two are hiding in the city if you were to ask.”

  Godwin was angered after he remembered Stroke’s report the night prior. He stared at Strokes empty seat and threw a glass at it.

  “He doesn’t bother coming to the council, he will have no glory in bringing them to justice.”

  “Finally, something we agree on,” Harren said in relief. “Ever since the disappearance of that little lusty wench, we barely see or hear from our brother. Servants bring him food and take away the rotting meat when night falls. Perhaps we should send him soap to soften his hands, clearly, he will never marry.”

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  “He would marry if you allowed him,” Bianca said, shooting a deathly stare at Godwin. “I am starting to think Stroke might be my favourite out of the three Valans. I miss his kindness at this table.”

  “I am the king, Bianca,” Godwin snarled. “Stroke should not be favoured of me.”

  “I will take your orders if they are lawful and just. That fact does not make you my favourite.”

  “Let her have her little favourites,” Harren scoffed. “It changes nothing about our power. If he ever attends this council, let it be by his own decision. I have no love for him after he wields a sickle to mock me for what our father did to me.”

  “Perhaps he could be turned to our side,” Mara added from the corner. “Put him to use.”

  Zishang pulled a dagger from his belt and went to fulfil the order of his king. Godwin stopped him gently, a firm nod, listening to Mara in a rare instance where he wanted her to explain.

  “He took down Killian and Quinn,” Mara continued.

  “My king, took down is a loose term—” Killian tried to say.

  “Silence,” Godwin demanded. “You did not kill him; therefore, you lost. Why do you think we need more strength, Mara?”

  “We don’t,” she whispered. “But an extra pawn under Vatanil’s belt wouldn’t hurt much… I could entice him into service.”

  “He wouldn’t listen to you, my king,” Killian said. “I—”

  “Piss off, Killian,” Godwin growled. “Leave this room. Go and find my little brother, bring him here. If he declines, you have my permission to drag that little brat here by his ear.”

  “Check all the privies,” Harren snickered. “That little cunt must be off an all fours, sniffing the feet of maidens while they shit and keeping the Sentinels blue while he does it.”

  Bianca shook her head and rose from her seat, aiming to leave the council.

  “And where are you going?” Godwin said.

  “To search the streets for the other two.”

  “Stay,” Godwin ordered. “I am your king.”

  “You shall still be my king whilst I search the streets. I am done with this council—mocking Stroke never amuses me. If you have anything to say to me, leave it with Zishang.”

  Killian left first. Bianca slammed the door shut behind her.

  “Great,” Harren exclaimed. “Now we can all get to the real meat of the situation.”

  “Get out,” Godwin grumbled.

  “Brother?”

  “Get out!” he boomed. “All of you! Get out of here! I’m sick of seeing you! Leave!”

  He threw them all out, locking the door shirt and standing at the window. Twas sunset already, due to winter.

  “Can’t even control my own council,” he whispered to himself. “Losing power… I am the king; they should listen to me.”

  “Assuring yourself when alone? How low of you.”

  Godwin turned to the source of the familiar, young-sounding voice. “Stroke?” he said, narrowing his eyes. “Is that you?”

  A large window was slightly open, a dark shadow shrouding the corner of the council room. A foot stepped into the light, then a second. That was all he allowed Godwin to see.

  “Little brother,” Godwin said in surprise. “Where have you been during our time of crisis?”

  “I was here before you got here,” he said. “But according to my big brother… I’m off sniffing feet in the commonfolk’s toilets.”

  “He was joking. You know how Harren gets.” Godwin took a cautious step forward. “I miss you dearly, your absence is heavy.”

  “One more step and this conversation is over,” Stroke said. “I don’t wanna be seen.”

  Godwin stood still as a statue. “I know you don’t.”

  “Are you going to bring him to our side?”

  Damn the gods… the last thing I need is my little brother involved with this red-eyed intruder. “You will leave that decision to me,” he ordered. “I need my little brother, now more than ever. Do not speak to the man until I have found the other two.”

  “They are not in the city.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I saw him come, remember? Zishang brought you the report. I gave it to him specifically.”

  “Really?” Godwin said in shock. “He didn’t tell me that.”

  “Yes he did. You ordered Zishang to lie to me if he saw me.”

  Godwin took a step forward. “tut-tut, little brother, it is rude to listen to other’s conversations.”

  “Do you also find it rude to mislabel maidens as whores?”

  Godwin didn’t have a rebuttal. He offered a silent apology with his hands, cocking his head with a sigh. “You know I don’t mean some of the words I say.”

  Stroke wasn’t interested in what his brother had to say. “Those men are dead because of you. They didn’t need to die. I told you where that man was. Your fault.”

  “You didn’t act on it either.”

  Stroke stayed silent in the darkness, thinking. “I couldn’t. You’d slander my name as dishonourable for not coming for permission. I’m not stupid, you can’t turn me against myself—you know it, you don’t care, their spirits should haunt you eternally.”

  “Always so dramatic, aren’t you?”

  Another silence hung heavy.

  “…is she okay?” Stroke asked in a vulnerable, soft tone. “You know how much she means to me.”

  “I will find her,” Godwin promised, beguiling him with a friendly tone. “We’ve had our differences, little brother. I will find her. Those cambions will pay for kidnapping her.”

  “Will you send me?” Stroke said beggingly. “I love you even with my defiance. I wouldn’t leave the city without your say-so.”

  “If we don’t find her soon, you may go,” he promised. “On the promise that you won’t interact with the man in the dungeon.”

  Stroke agreed to this with a hum of acceptance.

  “I will return her to you,” Godwin said, taking another step. “I promise you that I will.”

  When Godwin blinked, Stroke’s feet had vanished. He quickly marched to the corned and searched for his brother, poking his head out the window and seeing nothing.

  “Oh, little brother,” Godwin mumbled to himself. “You always were so trusting of us.”