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CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
President Eldritch Weyser
“Sir, we just got word that the compound in Sector Six was blown up,” said Grovin, my chief of staff, poking his head into my bedroom and catching my gaze. “How would you like us to proceed?”
I swallowed, though it was a struggle to do so. My throat had been on fire for the last week, and I’d been able to get nothing but frozen cubes of broth into my stomach. “Schedule a press conference,” I said, my voice hoarse. “For this afternoon. Then let all the commanders know that I want a video conference with them tomorrow morning. That is the third compound in two months. I thought we had this stupid revolution under control.”
Grovin grimaced, nodded, then ducked away.
“Father, you really shouldn’t exert yourself like this,” my oldest son, Klyn, said, coming out of the bathroom with a wet washcloth. He sat on the edge of my bed and pressed it to my forehead. “You’re not well.”
I glared at him but exhaled at the relief the cool cloth provided for my raging fever.
“Maybe it’s time we brought up the subject of you abdicating,” he said quietly. “I’m ready, I assure you.”
Jerking the cloth from my head, I flung it across the room. “The fuck you are,” I snarled.
Klyn’s dark brown, nearly black eyes grew darker, if that was even possible. But he merely smiled. “Then perhaps I should fly out west and meet with some of our remaining commanders. Obviously, there is unrest in the ranks, if what they say is true—that Commander Denholm from Sector Six was part of the uprising.”
“Denholm was always weaker than the rest.” I paused. “Sector Six, isn’t that where Moord was moved to after Nine blew up?”
Klyn nodded. “Yes, father.”
A sigh pushed past my chapped lips. “I wonder if he made it out of the explosion? Man’s practically unkillable, so I wouldn’t be surprised if he was still alive.”
“I believe that he had recaptured that triple-threat Hellcat that had escaped the compound in Nine and brought her to Six. So we will need to establish whether she is a fatality in the explosion of Six or whether she escaped,” Klyn went on, his attempt at trying to demonstrate his political and defense prowess not lost on me. I didn’t bite, though.
“She escaped,” I said plainly. “I’ve only ever seen her in action behind a window, but if she’s as tough as I saw, she escaped.”
“To join the revolution?”
I shrugged and coughed, reaching for the white silk handkerchief on my nightstand and holding it in front of my mouth. I coughed more, tasting the metallic tang of blood on my tongue before I pulled the cloth away. As expected, thick black clots of blood marred the pristine fabric.
Paying it no mind, I crumpled it up and tossed it into the bin beside my bed, along with all the other blood-soaked silk handkerchiefs.
“I’m happy to lead the charge squashing this littleuprising, father,” Klyn said. “It is but a band of anarchists, making an attempt to overthrow you. But we’ve ground larger armies under our boots before. Should take a week, maybe two tops.”
I cast Klyn a glance. The boy was foolish. He had high aspirations, big dreams, but little practicality or life skills. He was jealous that his younger brothers had been born Verian while he was born Amlin, forced to feed off our servants only to experience a tenth of the high that his brothers did.
No. I wouldnotbe leaving my legacy to Klyn, and deep down, he knew that. Despite him being my eldest son and technically the one to take over the presidency from me, I would be bypassing Klyn and handing the seat of the most powerful man in the world to either Cias or Dario. Ragnore and Synth were still too young. But out of all four of my Verian sons, Synth—who was only nine—showed the most amount of promise. He was ruthless. Just last week I’d joyfully watched him pull the wings off at least a dozen butterflies, only to begin catching frogs in our garden pond and tear the legs off them as well.
Technically, though, not even Klyn was my firstborn. But Iyanna, my one and only daughter, was born Lambda, so of course, she was otherwise occupied.
And besides, women were forbidden from ruling. What a stupid notion indeed.
A woman ruling the country. What next? Free medical care and the freedom to choose your own career path? Democracy had failed this country in the past. Give the people choice and your empire will crumble. Any good ruler knows that.
“Father?” Kyln said, drawing my attention back from my wandering thoughts. “I would like the chance to show you that I can lead. That I am capable of dismantling this uprising and in turn capable of ruling this country in the very big shoes you will leave behind.”
I flicked him away with my hand. “Leave me. I must rest before my press conference.”
I didn’t even glance at Klyn again, but I knew him well enough to know that he was angry.
Too fucking bad. He could go cry in his room.
“Very well. Let me just grab you another pillow, help you get more comfortable.”
My eyes were already closed, but I could hear him move about the room. He pulled a pillow from the empty side of the bed and moved back around to my side. I leaned forward so he could put the pillow behind me, but instead, he pressed it over my face.
