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muttering. “Damn you, Dmitri. Damn you.”
    “All is ready, my lord.”
    I waited a good five minutes while Aleksander stared out of the window, folding his arms in front of his chest, his jaw rigid, in the very posture of controlled rage. When he began to release his words, they were like the first few pellets of sleet spit from lowering clouds, so hard and biting that they would send villagers scurrying to gather in their children and their stock to protect them from the coming fury of the storm.
    Sire,
    I accept your righteous rebuke for my decision to reduce Lord Vanye’s rank. It was a thoughtless act, contrary to the best interests of the Derzhi Empire and reflecting dishonor upon myself as your son and heir, and therefore upon you, my father and my liege. Such result was never, and could never be, my remotest intent. To bring the least blight, the most minute taint of unseemly dispute to your glorious reign or your honored person is so vile a thought I can scarcely voice it, as if by saying the words, my tongue must blacken and fall out with the poisonous taste. Upon the life that you have given me and the honor that you have nurtured in me, such a lapse will not happen again.
    But for any act beyond this, I accept no chastisement. Vanye purposefully and contrivedly sought to destroy the property of his prince and liege. This is nothing but treason. To treat such a crime with lenience is to invite further affronts or open rebellion. The penalty for treason must be death or enslavement. So I was taught by you, honored sire. Vanye brought this shame upon his family, not I.
    As for the other matter, it seems but a confirmation of the earlier results. If Vanye’s family are loyal subjects wronged by the Emperor’s justice as they claim, then why is Lord Sierge found spying on his Emperor’s son? This is yet another act of treason to augment and compound the first. A price must be and will be paid for it.
    My words to my cousin were private, and I will offer no apology for them.
    I have received your Khelid messenger graciously and heard from his mouth my Emperor’s rebuke. Your choice of a non-Derzhi voice for this most painful missive is, of course, not a matter on which I would dare express misgivings. But I most determinedly resist the long-term companionship with this Khelid lord that you have suggested. The Khelid people may be worthy allies and have a culture deserving our scrutiny, but when it comes to the governing of the Derzhi Empire, I wish for your tutelage only, sire. Not that of foreigners who treat for peace with their sovereign in chains.
    With all respect and deepest humility,
    Aleksander, Prince of Azhakstan
     
    A masterpiece. I was absolutely in awe of Aleksander’s craftsmanship and came near blurting out my compliments. To pull in the reminder of the Khelid king in chains ... to couch his own stupidity in such noble sentiments ... I wanted to stand and applaud him. Perhaps the man had more intelligence than it seemed at first. Perhaps he had learned a lesson from the whole nasty mess.
    I shook the sand off the letter and prepared wax for the seal. Aleksander pressed so hard he almost squeezed all of the stuff from under his ring.
    While I cleaned up the desk, including glass fragments and feathers and the oil that had dripped from my hair and my arm, Aleksander spoke to a servant outside his door. In only a moment his uncle Dmitri entered and genuflected quite formally, expressing his surprise at being recalled so soon.
    “I have a mission for you, Uncle.”
    “And what is that?”
    “I wish you to bear my answer to my father.”
    “You jest!”
    “Not at all. I can’t seem to trust my messengers not to pry into my correspondence, but you would not dare deliver a letter with a broken seal to your Emperor, brother or no. You are the only one I can trust, therefore, you must go.” The Prince stuck the letter in his uncle’s thick fingers.
    The Derzhi warrior was furious. “You young