Chapter 33: What I Want.
[Conquest notification]
[The Lord of Meisterfort is shocked by your actions.]
[The Countess of Lorin is afraid | Susceptibility increased by 5%.]
[The third Royal Guard has become wary of you | Danger increased by 5%.]
[The King of Byzeth is intrigued by your actions.]
A flurry of panels began to materialize and surround Aric.
Aszer leaned back in his throne, his head leaning to the side on his left hand as he regarded the fourth prince with a blank expression.
"Hmmm... That’s a bold accusation, fourth prince... Especially one to make all alone."
"Accusation?" Aric scoffed. "Let’s cut the charades. Was your ambition supposed to be a secret? If it was, it was quite terribly kept... But we both know you’re a smarter man than to keep loose secrets, no?"
"Where are you heading with this?"
Aric smiled at the king’s question. "Where? Well, I already said what I wanted to know: What gave you the audacity to contemplate rebellion?"
Aric turned to the rest of the court.
"Let’s not kid ourselves. We know a kingdom opposing Valeria is nothing but a dead man’s quest." Aric turned back to the king. "So I kept asking myself, why would you consider it and even go as far as to leak your ambitions? As far as I knew, you were no fool, nor were you suicidal."
"Watch your next words very carefully... prince." The king’s Ki was released very subtly, but it was enough to make breathing difficult.
"It was a trap, wasn’t it? You made yourself look like a weak, ignorant sheep waiting for slaughter. But in the shadows, behind your facade, a predator lurked—the men of winter waited to collect their prize."
"Fourth prince..." Aszer muttered, his hands clenching around his throne.
"I have to give it to you. I had honestly believed you had nothing to do with the Northerners, but to think you’ve already made them dependent on you at this point... So much so that you are certain they will go to war for you. Aszer, you cunning bas—"
The king had moved from the throne, though no one had noticed. Aric most definitely did not—he only felt Aszer’s tight grip around his throat as he was lifted off the ground, choking.
"Why should I not snap your neck this very moment?"
"Because the moment you do, all your years of planning, everything, goes to nothing. You will stand no chance, and death will be your only end."
Aric’s words came through gritted teeth as he choked.
"So what? You’re implying that isn’t already the case?" The king asked, releasing his grip on Aric’s throat slightly.
"No," Aric answered. "Not if I intervene."
The king fell silent, and the entirety of the throne room was quiet as well. Not even a breath could be heard, not until Aszer spoke again.
"Everyone but the council... get out." The king commanded, dropping Aric. Immediately, the entire court began to troop out of the throne room, evoking a flurry of footsteps.
After they had all left, leaving only a few men and guards, the king returned to his throne.
"Elaborate your words... prince," the king said.
"You have a great plan, but the emperor is no fool. Why do you think he hasn’t yet sent a march to level your kingdom? Others might not conceive it possible, but he can see your trap as clear as day. As for how the trap works... that’s something only I have managed to figure out."
The king tilted his head. "Is that so? Then if I kill you, the knowledge dies with you, and everything should be fine."
"You need to listen better, Aszer," Aric spoke his name, disregarding respect. "I alone figured it out, but that doesn’t mean I alone have this information. If I am not in places I am supposed to be at the times I am supposed to be there, not only will the emperor be given full information on your plan, but he will also be informed that you have the blood of an imperial prince on your hands."
Aszer stayed silent a moment, glancing at his council before turning back to Aric.
"What will that change? You have figured it out already. In the end, a battle with me would be a battle with the Northrenders, and all I will have to do is sit and watch Valeria crumble. We both know the men of winter will not lose."
Aric gazed at the king, smiling slightly.
"Perhaps they won’t, but when they fight two empires, what then? And what if that second empire controls far too many divine sacred beasts for comfort?"
"What do you mean?" Aszer asked, muscles tensing.
"Come on, you’re a smart man, no? The Drakens don’t know it yet, but it’s you who have taken their business. And even if they did find out, they would consider if it’s worth going to war with Valeria," Aric raised his hand. "But what happens when the Valerian emperor gives you up on a platter? Will the Northerners defend you against two empires?"
"We both know the answer to that question," Aric finished, grinning from ear to ear. They were playing a deadly game of chess in that moment, and the king seemed to have made blunder after blunder.
"What do you want, Valerian?" Aszer asked, his face now betraying his fury.
"Great question. In the end, that is always what it comes down to... what I want."
Aric began to take slow steps, approaching the throne.
"What I want, your grace," Aric looked directly into the eyes of the king, "is for your rebellion to succeed."