“You got blood on my carpet.”

Eithan glanced at the midnight blue runner to his left. Yes, Sulian, that’s what happens when you order someone to be beaten next to it. That’s why he worked in the cells, where there were grates. It was common fucking sense.

“Forgive me, father.” He smoothed out his grimace, molding it into a mask devoid of any feeling.

Sulian might very well take insult and opt to teach him another lesson for appearing so uncaring about the carnage of the first one, but he’d gladly take another before giving the fucker the satisfaction of seeing him react.

He pushed up farther, biting his tongue until he tasted fresh blood, and straightened his spine. He slid his knees underneath him, keeping his head bowed and forcing himself to ignore Sulian’s amused huff. The fucking asshole was loving this—seeing him kneel at his feet like a disobedient pet.

“Leave us.”

Eithan didn’t move a muscle, knowing the order wasn’t for him. He listened to the lone guard’s retreating footsteps, then heard the doors open and close. Yennin. The newest guard to do Sulian’s bidding and assist him with Eithan’s lessons.

He didn’t know why Sulian ever bothered sending his men away whenever he wanted to talk. It wasn’t like Yennin could reiterate anything he overheard anyway. The man, along with every other one of Sulian’s personal guards, was not only illiterate, but also missing their tongues.

They were wealthy beyond measure for it and got away with just about anything on the street. Violence, bribery, rape. Sulian turned a blind eye to all of it as long as they stayed loyal to him.

But even so, Eithan couldn’t imagine willingly giving up his tongue for a man who wouldn’t know how to use his own if a woman sat on his fucking face.

“Some days I wonder if you are worth it. You’d do well to remember you are not my only option.”

The words disrupted his thoughts, skittering through him, searching for a crack in his mask to burrow under and exploit. But they’d find no such thing.

There was nothing Sulian could say that he hadn’t already said in the last two decades of Eithan’s life. His foul words had stopped sticking long ago.

“I understand, father. Tell me what I must do to regain your favor, and I will do it.” The words tasted like ash on his tongue, but he meant them. He’d do whatever it took to keep Sulian from looking at him too closely.

There was a pause, the rhythmic tapping of Sulian’s fingers on his throne the only sound filling the silence before he spoke.

“I no longer see the point. I order you to marry the Magyki. You fail. I order you to retrieve her. You fail. I order you to bring me your treacherous guard. You fail. An untrained bitch follows commands better than you.”

Eithan raised his head in time to see the death glare Sulian was sending his way. It didn’t bother him in the least. The feeling was fucking mutual.