“Father, no, I have too much to—” He cut off because his father’s eyes were already closed, the deep sounds of sleep already murmuring from his lips.

“Find a wife,” Tomas scoffed under his breath as he stood. “Make heirs. Draw me a diagram?” He sighed. Despite everything, he found a small smile creeping onto his lips. Because regardless of his father trying to indicate the contrary, he wasn’t dying. Not yet. For his wit hadn’t failed him yet.

Like the day before, Tomas was unable to hold back his smile as he stood beside the throne. Not just because he enjoyed seeing the shocked and somewhat fearful expressions on the faces of a certain Lord Gideon and Lord Skinner, but because his father was drumming his fingers impatiently on the throne’s armrest, like this was just another day dealing with the slog of court proceedings and not the day after he’d been bedridden and believed to be spiraling slowly toward death’s cold embrace.

“Whatever underhanded dealings you’ve made since I came down with a cold, unmake them,” the king demanded.

Lord Gideon, regaled in a bright red cape with an unblemished white vest with gold trim, tried to save face by raising his chin in defiance, but an ill-timed twitch of his nose gave away his unease. “I’m afraid that’s not possible. The papers have been signed…by my own hand.”

“Then I shall chop off that hand and use it to set fire to the so-called papers. You acted without the authority of office. Do you have aspirations to steal my throne from beneath my arse, too?”

They were discussing something as mundane as a new trade agreement that, of course, would funnel a very high percentage of proceeds directly into Gideon’s greedy pockets, but the king adeptly turned it into an act akin to committing treason. All the while, the king’s face reddened with rage, when in fact Tomas knew the man well enough to know when he was acting. He wants them all to see him as an unpredictable tyrant so they’ll underestimate his ability to strategize. It was just like the game. Tomas couldn’t believe it had taken himself this long to fully see through the many onion-like layers that his father was made of. See, Father, I still have much to learn from you.

Tomas turned his attention back to the pure entertainment of watching Lord Gideon squirm like a snake impaled into the ground. The man’s face had paled, and he’d subconsciously tucked his hands up into his shirtsleeves, as though such a basic act could save them from being amputated. “I’m certain that won’t be necessary. My scribes will find a loophole to render the new agreements null and void.”

“They’d better.” When the man stood there, unmoving, the king roared, “Do it now!”