"Your ethics are thin as paper."
The knife cut through the steak, red blood spilling out. The metal knife hit the bottom of the ceramic plate, making a sharp sound. Carlos simply pushed the plate aside. His voice was brimming with frustration. "Just feed me raw meat at this point...."
He threw the fork onto the plate, landing on a mutilated steak. A servant quickly picked up his plate. Everyone, including Celyn who sat across the emperor, knew. The anger was meant for something else. Him.
Celyn kept quiet as the servants took his plate as well. Food was not important. Things had blown out of proportion. "Your majesty..."
Carlos glared at Celyn, not letting the latter finish his words. "What's next, crown prince? After suggesting your half-sister?..... perhaps your mother?"
*Bang*
Celyn got up from the table, slapping it in the process. His knees shook with anger. He admitted he was wrong for asking the emperor to replace him with his half-sister. But dragging his mother into this conversation. It was unacceptable.
Celyn leaned forward. "Don't bring up my mother in this conversation, your majesty." He didn't believe the emperor was someone who would be respectful to the dead. But his mother.... she was a different matter.
Carlos' gaze didn't waver. The red eyes simply stared at the youth's outburst. Calm. He had found a weakness, a trigger. But he wanted the prince to understand. There was no other viable option. Except surrender.
If he wanted someone safer, with just one word, people would line up. Yesterday's event was a glimpse of just that.
Carlos' eyes narrowed. "How much longer can Luxuria last if the empire decides to cut off supply?"
It was a familiar question. Too familiar for Celyn. His blood ran cold, his head felt lighter. Something was brimming underneath the surface. But what? He grasped the corner of the table trying to steady himself.
Was it feeling helpless? Or defeat?
Carlos got up from his seat, not planning on staying for breakfast anymore. He glanced at the knife he had used to cut the steak. Sauce dripped down from the blade. He simply threw it on the table, staining the white tablecloth. "This conversation is going nowhere."
Celyn looked at the emperor's back. No, he couldn't leave.
He moved quickly but his legs were frozen. Celyn didn't follow the emperor immediately. "Wait..."
Carlos paused and turned around. The corner of his lips lifted enough for Celyn to notice. This almost felt rehearsed.
But Celyn turned his eyes away, not making eye contact. His fingers clenched, pinching the table cloth underneath. But his lips opened unwillingly.
"If I agree, what do 'I' get?"
The red eyes fixed at him, Carlos taking a step further.
"Do you understand what you are sounding like right now?" From pimp to prostitute... This was definitely the previous Emperor's blood.
There was a door just two steps away from Carlos. But he didn't leave. Instead, he bit the corner of his cheek from inside. They were not bargaining.
Celyn took a step forward. He sounded like an opportunist. A bitter taste filled his mouth. "Isn't this how political marriages are done? You cannot win on every front, your majesty."
_________