"Most stand when the commander of the Primus Cavalry enters a room."
I took a moment to actively ignore him, knowing that if I looked over just then, in the wake of his grating comment, blighted by the cloyingly rich and round accent of the south, I would've had no choice but to kill him.
I usually respected an audacious man, but only if there was an inkling of some sort of intelligence behind his words. But this? Nothing but baseless arrogance.
Eventually, I trusted myself enough to shift my gaze away from Vitale and towards the quite unwelcomed foreigner, flanked by two bronze-plated guards.
I smirked. Then the captain of my garrison didn't feel they were at all a source of danger. It was just what I needed to lighten my mood.
"This is the Room of Bears," I stated plainly, before pointing a thumb to the wall behind me. "Didn't you see the carving?"
He wasn't expecting a response so unembellished - or lazy, I suppose. It gave me plenty of time to continue.
"In this chamber, looked down upon by the great Sow of the Sky, all are subject to none, seated in freedom and honor."
The pest was a broad man, with no height to balance it. His flaxen hair was trimmed close to his head - an odd fashion found amongst the Casterian soldiers. It made it impossible not to notice his comically protruding ears, especially as he made of display of gazing around the chamber, as if in reminiscence.
"The Room of Bears," he repeated, taking deliberate steps around, as if his confidence was at all imposing. "Yes, I remember this room."
"What a keen memory you must have." It was difficult for me to stop there, but as much as I was irritated by my priest - a fact he would soon be paying for dearly - I knew he did not speak out of turn.
And thus, I couldn't kill that bastard. Yet.
"But the ideals that it's built around? Nothing but outdated notions of old men who know not the nature of people." He shrugged as he lowered his gaze to me. "Everyone is subject to someone."
"You must not have had the honor of meeting a Krovic woman, then," I smirked.
Again, this caught him off guard, and momentarily I truly did reconsider his wit and how slow it could potentially be. He had at least a decade on me and a comment about spirited women had him on the defense?
And then I smirked. That couldn't have been the case. The bastard could've been the ugliest and most pitiful creature on the face of the planet and still, he would've had his fair share of lays - especially since all of the brothels in Casteria were subject to imperial taxation and being on the royal family's good side always made heavy any wallet willing. No. He wanted to hurt me as much as I wanted to hurt him.
My stomach twisted, giddiness bubbling - one that I desperately tried to push down, as any show of such emotion would give him reason to believe me mad and question my inheritance.
Vitale, ever vigilant, noticed before even I did, and made a sweeping gesture with his right hand to pull the man's attention away - like a brainless bull.
"Please, sire, take a seat. You must be exhausted from your long journey - during the start of the ice season at that." Vitale turned and snapped his fingers at a castle-hand.
The young woman calmly poured another stein of cider, walking over to the pest with no sense of urgency nor discernable expression on her face.
Even as he thanked her kindly, smiling and tilting his head, she remained as cold as the cliff faces of the east. But, then again, I did warn him. Servant or nobility, Krovic women were all the same - unamused by the bullshit of men and fully prepared to take two dangling trophies to prove it.
Only minorly stalled by her clear lack of interest, the Casterian scraped out a chair adjacent to my own - as if being at the other head of the table was somehow a threat to my authority.
His stupidity did amuse my, if I was to be candid, and for more than one reason. He fled like a cur with his tail tucked between his legs at the age of twelve. By that age, I had already made my first political enemy, and this pathetic excuse for a man didn't even know that there was no head of the table in the Room of Bears. In fact, its purpose was nil, aside from the practical use of holding one's spirits.
All is subject to none in the Room of Bears, but that did not mean that the very nature of survival was diminished. If one did not have a base instinctual reaction to the Sow of the Sky carved into the stone wall, then it was made clear his instinct of survival was... well, deserving of little respect, shall we say.
Those who do not face her, those who do not fear the masters of the wild, are the ones who are fit to be the masters of the domesticated.
"You must be Vitale Sicarius," the Casterian said as he settled into the chair. "The alchemist priest who cured death itself. A venerable accomplishment, indeed."
"I did not cure death, sire." Vitale was quick to make the amendment, raising a humble yet dismissive hand.
"You may call him Emerentius," I apprised without pause. "Or Rens." I turned to the bastard with an expression of faux curiosity. "That's what grandfather Aquiladessi calls you, no?"
The almost childish goad was enough to stiffen his upper lip.
"When referring to my grandfather Nikolai, it is emperor. And as for the priest, it is of proper etiquette to continue to refer to a member of the patriciate as sire. Curious that a lowly Casterian priest knows that better than a member of said class, himself."
"Paltry," I murmured to myself. "And unsophisticated. What a disappointment."
"Sire," Vitale cut in, offering me only a flitting glance. It held nothing in it - no warning nor question. Just a simple glance, as one would likely do to a feral tiger vibrating with a deep, guttural rumble. "As you might've gleaned, since you sent no previous word of your plans to visit Castle Mechi, chambers had to be quickly arranged. They may not suit your needs; however, we are here to make your stay comfortable."
"We are not," I countered in a matter-of-fact fashion. "Our purpose in this residence has nothing to do with the comforts of-... an Aquiladessi."
I had to bite my tongue on that one, as a plethora of indecencies sprang forth before his actual name.
"Our purpose in this residence is to maintain the order and the health of the Krovic people."
"Well, as I will be ascending to your current - yet, provisional - position, Nikolai," Rens cut in, offering me an easy, yet provoking, smile. "I believe it only proper, shrewd even, that you would want me to be comfortable. What harm would come of you gaining the favor of the new king?"
I cocked a brow in genuine surprise. He utilized no tact whatsoever, no witty commentary, no underhanded insult to insinuate my illegitimacy - however nonexistent. This man truly was a bull with not a single braincell at work. Put some strings on him and he'd make for a perfect puppet. It was no wonder that blasted emperor thought to use him.
Damn it all - it made me want to hurt him even more.