Reva, Sindor

Professor Enfries Lombarde was a balding, dough-faced man with small hawkish eyes and an envoy of the Levish emperor, sent to Iman Vatteri from the heart of the Imperial Palace in Levings. His daily lessons took place in Young Master Ariss' study. Young Master Ariss always sat at his massive desk in the center of the room, closest to the professor. Young Master Givenue was seated behind him in a smaller desk. There were no other desks available in the vicinity, and the servants were too afraid of Young Master Ariss to retrieve one for Kaz from a neighboring room. Kaz was forced to kneel behind both of his half-brothers. This wasn't unexpected. He was, after all, the youngest son of the Commander Admiral's most insignificant consort.

Professor Lombarde was lecturing only a few feet away, but, in Kaz's current state of wretchedness, the professor's voice sounded as though it was traveling from a far greater distance.

"Emperor Levo Valens Warwell I was the one who quelled the rebellions across the Southern Continent, a conflict that he had inherited from his father, Emperor Hanvose Romme Warwell III. Rebellions, which, of course, included the second wave of the bloodiest Sindori uprisings. The Savi, or Shadow Walkers, were completely wiped out during this time. They were a nefarious network of spies and assassins—more like traitors and criminals, if you ask me—who had been plotting to put a Sindori king back on the throne."

Kaz could barely process the words that kept flying out of the man's mouth. The gashes on his back felt like they were on fire. Everything burned, everything stung. He struggled to draw breath. He tried to focus, but it was rather overwhelming.

Professor Lombarde's sharp eyes darted over to Kaz. "This, Young Master masil-Kepar, is why it never pays to rise up against the Empire!"

Kaz winced as he lowered his head in acknowledgement. Every movement set his senses ablaze with more pain.

Miraculously, he managed to formulate a halfway decent response, "Professor Lombarde, I-I would never dream of such a thing. My loyalties lie only with the Levish."

Nodding in satisfaction with Kaz's answer, Professor Lombarde moved on, "Emperor Valens Hanvose Warwell II was the one who strengthened the alliance between our great Empire and the Zan Republic. Before him, we were teetering on the brink of war with the Zan king. Emperor Warwell II was a master of diplomacy. To this day, his legacy remains unmatched by any Warwell emperor."

Kaz breathed in deeply, slowly, and attempted to separate his consciousness from his physical being—as his masters from the monastery had taught him. It didn't work very well. Blood continued to soak through the bandages wrapped around his back and upper torso. The forty lashings from the day before had barely begun to heal. Kaz's mother sent him a bottle of medicinal salve. The salve eased his discomfort, but it wasn't potent enough to grant him relief.

In reality, Kaz knew Professor Lombarde's lesson had been in effect for about two hours, but it felt like an eternity to him. On and on the man droned obsessively about the Warwell emperors. When at last he started a new lecture on the Empire's presiding ruler, Emperor Valens Hanvose Warwell III, Kaz noticed a shift in both of his half-brother's demeanors.

In enthusiastic tones, Professor Lombarde declared, "The blood of the Warwell line runs through Emperor Warwell III's veins. As we can all see, clearly as day, deeply as night, he was born to be a great emperor and may yet become the greatest ruler to govern our glorious Empire."

Kaz watched as Young Master Ariss lowered his head to the surface of his desk and closed his eyes. He began to snore. His insolent behavior didn't seem to discourage the professor.

Merrily as before, Professor Lombarde pressed on, "Emperor Warwell III is married to Empress Sodrene Eneva Warwell. Her Fair Eminence hails from the mighty House of Castrene, who have served in the Imperial Court as political advisors for decades and decades. The Emperor and Empress are a heavenly match made by the gods. In addition to his ten Imperial Consorts selected from only the finest families across Levose, Vienz, and Ausicaa, Emperor Warwell's House also boasts of three Imperial Consorts from the Zan Republic, two from Sindor, and dozens more from the various other nations which have been rightfully absorbed into our grand Empire. One could argue that Emperor Warwell III is—"

"Impotent?" Young Master Givenue interjected with a knowing look. "I wonder, how can a man have so many consorts and still fail to produce a single heir? It is almost laughable!"

Almost instantaneously, Professor Lombarde's cheery expression fell away. He looked positively stricken.

In stuttering tones, he mumbled, "Oh my, oh my... Young Master Givenue, you... you must not say such things! The Emperor is still extremely young. Barely thirty three years in age. His heirs will come in time. Now, let us move on. Yes, yes. This is not a topic I wish to linger on in class."

Young Master Ariss opened one of his eyes.

"Why ever not?" he challenged coolly. "It is the truth, no? The Empire has fallen to shambles ever since His Imperial Majesty ascended the throne. I would not be surprised if all of our colonies are plotting rebellions as we speak. If His Imperial Majesty does not produce an heir soon, I fear every House in Levose with even a droplet of Imperial blood might start coming for his crown."

Kaz's eyes grew wide with interest. His injuries no longer seemed to grip at him as they had in the past two hours. The conversations swirling around him were providing far more insight to the Warwell emperors than any lesson that had sprung from Professor Lombarde's textbooks and lectures.

The professor was visibly sweating now. "Oh, dear, oh dear... It is one thing to hear such nonsense emerge from Young Master Givenue's mouth. He has always been a free spirit with a free tongue. But you? You, Young Master Ariss, I am shocked to hear such foolishness tumble from your lips! You... you are fortunate that I am the one standing on the receiving end of your erroneous presumptions. If we were in the capital right now, why, you might even be—"

"Arrested? Locked up? Killed?" Young Master Ariss supplied in dark tones. "I am going to die, anyway, Professor Lombarde. Whether I perish now or later doesn't matter to me. I might as well speak my mind while I can."

"Hear, hear, Alex! I do so enjoy it on the rare occasions you choose to remove that enormous stick from your arse," Young Master Givenue hooted in support. His brown eyes danced with a warped sense of delight. "And perhaps you, Professor, should go back to Levings if you find our company to be so... offensive."

Professor Lombarde held up his hands in surrender. "No, no! Please do not misunderstand me, Young Master Givenue. I am perfectly happy here in Reva. You are both such a pleasure and a delight to educate. I would never dream of abandoning my post."

"You know," Young Master Givenue drawled casually, "Consort-Mother tells me that we may even carry a droplet or two of Imperial blood somewhere in our family tree. I should try my hand at this heir-making business. It sounds most enjoyable!"

Kaz couldn't help but smirk at the scene that was playing out before him. Not only was it highly entertaining. It was also surprisingly educational.

"What are you laughing at, Kazekiel?" Young Master Ariss' blue eyes suddenly honed in on him.

Kaz blinked innocently. "Nothing at all, Young Master Ariss. I had an itch on my face, is all."

"An itch?" Young Master Givenue echoed with a grin. "Do you need me to scratch it for you, Kazekiel? Are you sure the itch is on your face and not your back? I hear you suffered quite a thrashing yesterday!"

Kaz bowed his head passively. "Thank you for your concern, Young Master Givenue, but there is no need to trouble yourself. My itch has passed."

"Why do you not call me by my given name, Kazekiel?" Young Master Givenue inquired with a good-natured smile. "We are brothers, after all."

Kaz paused. He wondered if this was another trap. Young Master Givenue didn't seem to be as cold or calculating as Young Master Ariss, but he didn't look trustworthy either. Kaz's mother had warned him about the levels of respect that needed to be obeyed in proper Levish etiquette. Only those in positions of superiority could address another person by their birth name. When in doubt, she told him, always use the person's proper Imperial title.

"It is because we are brothers, Young Master Givenue, that I am compelled to pay you the proper respect you deserve," Kaz explained in a low voice. "You are my elder and my superior in every way."

Young Master Givenue burst into laughter. His brown curls bounced as his body shook with amusement. He glanced over to Young Master Ariss with a conspiratal look.

"Does he always speak in this manner? How tiresome! I am surprised that our youngest brother here has not found a way to permanently attach his lips to our buttocks. He certainly seems to kiss arse very well."

Young Master Ariss scowled at Young Master Givenue. "How are you any better than him, Danverse? I am literally witnessing your pathetic attempt at striking up a bit of camaraderie with me. Naturally, you do it for your own selfish reasons and not because you wish to befriend me. Both of you are so transparent. It is disgusting!"

Young Master Givenue appeared crestfallen at Young Master Ariss' harsh words. Professor Lombarde stood by in silence. Too intimidated to interrupt them. Kaz studied the three of them intently. He suddenly realized just how transparent everyone's intentions and emotions could be—as long as he paid enough attention to the right details.

Professor Lombarde seemed to thrive on leeching off superiors for his own survival and advancement. He was predictable. He would likely always side with the most powerful person in the room.

Meanwhile, Young Master Givenue was a bit reckless with his tactics, but he was clear-headed enough to set aside his own pride to continue buttering up Young Master Ariss even though it seemed to be a fruitless endeavor. He wasn't to be underestimated.

And Young Master Ariss was a talking contradiction of the highest order. He claimed to be accepting of his impending death. He claimed to see through everyone's facades. He claimed to not care a whit. But he was emotional. Embittered. Angry. And, most of all, lonely. Sad. The Young Master sought agency over his own life. Anyone who could help him obtain that agency would likely become an ally.

Perhaps, Kaz mused, he could use his observations about everyone's desires and fears to his advantage. He decided to take a gamble.

Kaz spoke up. "Is it transparency, then, that you seek and value most, Young Master Ariss?"

His eldest half-brother turned to him with a grim expression. "There is no room for such a thing in our lives. Not as the sons of the Commander Admiral of the Imperial Navy. Unless, of course, you are prepared to die. As I am."

"I understand exactly what you mean, Young Master Ariss," Kaz murmured. "But I think your views are narrow. They need to be expanded upon."

"Oh? Is that so?" Young Master Ariss said testily. "How dare you speak to me as though we were equals. Have you already forgotten about those forty lashes I issued yesterday? Do I need to assign forty more to teach you this lesson properly?"

"You misunderstand me, Young Master Ariss, I know we are not equals," Kaz replied. "If my politeness offends you, then let me be frank. You try to separate yourself from others because of your condition. You expect to die young. But who is to say that you will not outlive me? My life is in your hands. If you wished to beat me to death right now, no one would raise a finger to help me. All I wish to point out is that you have more power than you think. Perhaps my honesty will displease you, but I am willing to die to show you just how transparent I can be. From now on, I will share only my sincere thoughts with you. I want to be your ally because I, too, want to survive. Not only that, but I want us to thrive together."

"You are a fool, Kazekiel, but... at least you are not a timid one," Young Master Ariss commented darkly, but his foul mood seemed much improved. He sighed. "All this talk of lashings and beatings and dying is exhausting to me. Professor Lombarde?"

The portly professor sprung to action. "Yes, Young Master Ariss?"

Young Master Ariss instructed, "Please continue with your lecture so I can get on with my day."

Professor Lombarde immediately complied and did as he was told. Like an overfed nightingale, he started singing the praises of Emperor Warwell III once more.

Kaz swallowed a smile. The walls that Young Master Ariss had built around himself were high and steep, but Kaz felt as though he had discovered the best way to scale them. He was beginning to understand that power came in many forms, and, in order to gain influence over someone else, the person in power needed to inspire fear—like the Emperor's sway over Professor Lombarde—or respect in the people he wished to control. Kaz knew he wasn't in a position to make Young Master Ariss fear him. At least, not yet. He could only work towards earning the older boy's respect. Now that Kaz understood how the game was meant to be played, a sense of calm swept over him.

The injuries on Kaz's back still ached, and Young Master Givenue was glaring daggers in his direction, but his survival in Crimsonwater Court no longer felt as hopeless as it had just moments ago.