“He is a greedy child, raised in hatred and spite by strangers we do not know, so he cannot understand our ways, no matter how hard Cassiel tried to instill our values in him. We cannot forgive this!”
“Enough!” Cameron bellowed, and the slurs halted as he spoke. “I am the Emperor, and I will decide his fate!”
“Sire, you know what must be done,” a councilman encouraged. “This insurrection is unforgivable. We must take his life. Drea cannot become Empress, but she is still young by Elvish standards, and is able to bear children. You must produce another heir to rise after you, and wash this stain of your name.”
I hoped to the gods they killed me, because I didn’t want to live anymore. Ava, my friends, the world, they’d all be better off without me. I’d hurt all of them, and the death sentence would be more than a fair sentence for my crimes.
At least it’d be a mercy, because then I wouldn’t feel like this.
But my hopes were dashed as Cameron replied, “I will not conceive another child. Not after this one has turned out to be such a colossal disappointment. I do not desire to be a father again, and I cannot take another chance that a second child would turn out to be even worse than he is. Charlie will still rise after me, and he will become Emperor after I am gone.”
Outrage shook the walls of the throne room once again. “Your majesty, it cannot be so!” an Associate yelled. “We cannot expect this corrupt, depraved deviant to become Emperor after you step down! You cannot forgive your son for this!”
“We cannot blame him too harshly. After all, he was raised without a mother,” Cameron argued. “Kelly wasn’t there to guide him as she should’ve.”
“Because Kelly gave her life for this spawn,” another hissed. “An unworthy sacrifice.”
He had no idea how much I wished that my mother had survived and I had died instead. If she didn’t outright hate me from the afterlife, she had to be ashamed of me now. That was the only thing that held me back from wishing for death— the terror that somehow, I might encounter my mother on the other side, only for her to berate me and tell me how worthless I was, and that her gift of life to me had been for less than nothing. Because all of it was true… it had to be.
“Charlie will still rule, but it will be in time. He has much to learn before he does,” Cameron stated.
My father came closer to me, walking down the steps until he was perched on the one above me, only a few feet away. Oberi pressed closer against my legs, his body tense in warning.
Cameron paused and whispered, “After all, your grandfather planted this idea in your head, didn’t he?”
“What?” The word came out in a gasp. Was he really implying what I thought he was?
“Don’t lie, Charlie. I know my father never wanted me to ascend to the title of Emperor. He made that very clear,” Cameron sneered. “He put you up to all of this— betraying me, the rebellion, everything.”
My grandfather would never do such a thing. Nobody disrespected my seanari like that.
“He never mentioned any of this to me, or conspired with me to plot the rebellion,” I spat. “All of this was my plan, and mine alone!”
“Don’t take me for a fool!” Cameron screamed, and spittle fell across my face. “You aren’t clever enough, nor are you experienced enough, to have done this all on your own!”
I didn’t even care that Cameron was calling me an idiot, only that he was slandering my grandfather’s name. Blaming Cassiel for my actions was worse than cruel. Whatever Cameron said about grieving his father, he still was resentful toward Cassiel, even in death.
Even the Associates and the council members in the room seemed shocked. A few low tones of disbelief rang throughout, though nobody said anything to advocate for my grandfather’s honor, the spineless weaklings they all were. They didn’t believe the coup had been Cassiel’s idea, but Cameron was Emperor now, and to go against him by speaking up on my grandfather’s behalf meant death, or worse, so they kept their mouths shut.
“But it doesn’t have to be this way,” Cameron continued. “I can instruct you in the ways of our family, and correct what went wrong. Your grandfather taught you the wrong way, but I can fix what’s been broken. I will mold you into a proper prince, one in my image, who will rule in the right way once you ascend to the throne.”
“I’m not letting you teach me a godsdamn thing,” I raged. “You have nothing to offer me.”
“I understand you’re upset about the death of Cassiel, but he was my father. I knew him for far longer, and loved him more than you ever could,” Cameron replied cruelly. “The loss of a grandparent cannot compare to the loss of a parent, and you are taking things too far, when you need to consider my feelings.”
It was rare that I was ever left speechless, but somehow, Cameron had managed to stun me beyond belief. How dare he imply I wasn’t allowed to grieve, that his pain was more important than my own.
“You didn’t care about him like I did,” I accused. “My grandfather never said it, but I knew he was ashamed of you as a son. He thought you were weak, and weren’t fit to rule. I could hear it in his voice every time he spoke your name.”
“Treason!” one of Cameron’s Associates cried out, and the throne room broke into mad jeers.
I didn’t give a damn, because there was nothing left between me and my father to save, so I might as well tell him how I felt. “I fucking hate you. You’re no father of mine. I wish my grandfather was still here and you were the one who’d died! At least then I’d be rid of you, and he’d still be here?—”
Cameron slapped me across the face. The blow was so hard it knocked me to the floor, and I fell roughly against my side.
Only a few hours ago, I would’ve hit back— punched him so hard he wouldn’t be able to get back up again.
But I couldn’t summon the heart to care. Let Cameron hit me. It wouldn’t make any difference in how I felt. He could torture me, embrace me, do nothing at all, and all of them would come down to the same result.
