Mikhail frowned, but chose not to speak. He knew the Emperor better than any other, and understood that it was best to be careful with his words.
If the Emperor was having Grieta watched, then he had reason to suspect her loyalties-- and if he had reason to suspect Grieta, Mikhail was also likely to be under suspicion. It was best not to defend himself until the accusation was made or evidence was presented.
"I trusted you, and her as well! You were honored beyond all others, showered with wealth and titles and yet behind my back... behind my back, you plot and scheme, coveting the throne!" the Emperor bellowed, while pacing.
Trust... Mikhail almost smirked at the word. One doesn't bind the will and tongue of someone they trust.
He could not tell if his brother's anger was sincere or an act. He had yet to make an accusation or present evidence, and Mikhail was struck with the uncomfortable thought that his brother might be using Grieta's betrayal to get rid of him and claim the Princess as his own. If that was the case, remaining silent was too risky.
"I understand my Emperor's anger and sense of betrayal, and I share it. I also did not think Lady Grieta capable of such foul misdeeds. I have only just returned from the Imperial Brothel. The very moment I arrived, I sent soldiers to aprehend the traitor," Mikhail informed him.
The Emperor paused and slowly turned to glare down at him, his expression uncertain.
"What was that?" He muttered.
"Forgive me, my Emperor, I said that I have also learned that Lady Grieta harbors treasonous intent, and I have dispatched the palace guard to search for her. It is my error that I did not discover it sooner," Mikhail clarified.
"Search for her? What do you mean? What does he mean?" He demanded turning to glare at his steward.
"This morning, Lady Grieta attacked the Princess of Vezda, attempting to take her life. The Princess is unharmed, but Lady Grieta managed to escape while I tended to her. I did not understand it at first, but I believe she meant to cause discord between Unaria and the Council. She was aware that there is a delegation arriving soon to discuss the Vezdan treaty and the Princess's situation, and-"
"Lies!" The Emperor seethed. "You think you can slide your way out of this with your serpent tongue, do you? How long have you been in league with Yevin?"
Mikhail glanced toward the steward, who had certainly overheard his conversation with Sir Anton, but the man remained stone-faced.
"You may call the head of the palace guard and Sir Anton to confirm my words, my Emperor. I would not lie to you, nor betray you. I cannot," he answered.
The Emperor's face grew very red at his words. His rage was real after all. Mikhail could see it in the shaking of his hands as he balled them into fists.
There was a reason he called for Sir Anton, the head of the ministry of law, as well as the palace guard. There would be a legal record of his actions. A writ would be filed with a time and date. He did not not realize, of course, that he would be accused of treason, but the writ would fortunately be a powerful defense.
The Emperor knew it as well. Mikhail could see him thinking behind those narrowed eyes. He turned toward the steward and waved a dismissive hand at him.
"Get out!" The Emperor growled.
Once the door had closed, the Emperor crossed the room to stand behind him. Mikhail remained kneeling. After a long moment of silence, he felt the point of a sword press against his back.
"I thought Grieta was loyal," the Emperor mused in a low voice, "but I was wrong. I could be wrong about you as well. We will discover today, dear brother, how loyal you truly are."
Mikhail steeled his nerves, careful not to tense up or to quicken his breath. He continued to kneel, staring calmly forward as he considered what the sword would pierce, should it be driven through him. At the point and angle where it currently pricked against his back, it should just miss his heart. It might be a survivable injury.
"Prince Mikhail of Unaria, hear this my word and command. I am going to question you, and should you hesitate to answer, even for a moment, I order you to lean back against this blade and allow it to pierce you by a fraction. Every time you answer with the word yes, you shall lean back and allow it to pierce you further. Do you understand me?" The Emperor demanded.
"Yes," Mikhail muttered and immediately leaned hard against the point of the blade. It pierced through his skin easily but with a burning pain.
He drew a deep breath and immediately regretted it. Breathing caused the muscles in his back to move slightly, but the sword remained firm, tearing through just a little more flesh.
It hurt- stung really- but he could withstand it. The worst thing was that the pain made it difficult to concentrate, and he would need all of his focus to be able to answer the Emperor's interrogation.
"Did you know that Grieta was meeting with the Duke of Yevin?" The Emperor demanded.
"No!" Mikhail answered quickly-- and this was true. He never knew who Grieta was meeting. He had certainly suspected that the Duke was-
"Did you know that she had the ability to defy the Krovbond?" The Emperor hissed.
"Yes!" Mikhail admitted without even thinking and jerked backward impalimg himself a little further onto the blade. It struck bone, hitting his rib, which sent a lightening strike of pain through his entire body.
He groaned and then grit his teeth, breathing through them in short gasps.
He had certainly felt worse pain, but knowing that the blade would slide further in at any second was a sort of mental torture which made the pain seem even more severe.
The Emperor scoffed.
"You knew... and yet you said nothing!" he accused.
"I only knew that she could... with great, great difficulty... speak on subjects... that were forbidden," Mikhail explained between gasps. "I thought... I believed... that was the extent of it.."
The Emperor ripped the sword from his back and Mikhail immediately slumped forward in relief, finally drawing a deep breath. He again felt the point of the sword against his back, this time higher up.
"How did she manage it?" The Emperor demanded. "You must have some idea."
"Practice... I think she had to practice it a great deal... and her marks... they were the first ones you made that worked. You had to perform the ceremony over and over... she was scarred and... deformed by-"
"And have you also learned to speak on forbidden things?" The Emperor growled.
"No," Mikhail answered simply, closing his eyes.
"Why did you keep this from me?"
Mikhail opened his mouth and closed it again.. the answer was simple enough... because he hated his brother, because he hoped that Grieta and the Duke and all those who secretly plotted against the Emperor would overthow him and end his life, and this answer was fighting to burst from his mouth, but no... there were other reasons as well... he could chose one that wouldn't--
He felt himself lean back against his will- driving the sword deeper into his flesh.
Clamping his lips together to stiffle a cry of pain, he inwardly cursed himself.
"You hesitated," the Emperor reminded him. "Out with it, brother. Answer me!"
"Because I didnt want her to be executed! She was a... friend... somewhat like... a friend," he admitted quickly.
"A friend..." the Emperor repeated, as though considering his answer, and then he thrust the sword deeper, once again striking bone, jolting his entire body.
Mikhail could not supress the cry of pain that tore from his throat. His brother pulled the sword free, and he again slumped forward, panting and blowing. The blood was beggining to soak his shirt. Though he could not see it, he could feel the damp fabric rubbing against his wounds.
Once again, the sword pricked him in the back.
"You have always had poor taste when it comes to choosing your friends," the Emperor growled. "But nevertheless, your loyalty is to me above all others, I command it! Do you understand me, brother?"
"Ye- I do!" Mikhail answered, catching himself just in time.
The Emperor chuckled.
"Oh no, we've played this game before. You know better. So I shall ask again. Do you understand me... yes or no?" He hissed.
"Yes!" Mikhail said struggling against his own body as he jerked backward, impaling himself against the swordpoint.
"And if you hear from her, if you see her, if you even have any suspicion of where she has gone to, you will tell me immediately. Do you agree?" The Emperor asked calmly.
"Yes!" Mikhail agreed as the sword pierced deeper.
"And the Princess... do you call her your friend as well?"
"No," Mikhail answered quickly, relieved that the Emperor would never understand that a man could feel something toward a woman so deeply that to simply call her 'friend' would be a lie.
"That is good. She is a Vezdan after all, and like her sister and that whore, Grieta, a sneaking vile creature that will lie and trick you to get her way! Yet I am not so dull as you think, brother. I can see how you coveted her... how you did everything short of treason to keep her for yourself. If not for feeling then why-"
"Because she trusts me!" Mikhail blurted out. "And she despises you! She will keep her silence... before the council... for me. Take her and you take... a greater risk... than you realize."
The words were true. Somewhat true, anyhow. The Princess had confessed, while in a vulnerable state, her feelings toward him. It left a bitter taste in his mouth to twist her words in a way that would convince the Emperor that he was merely using her affection to buy her silence and serve the Empire.
The Emperor thrust the sword again. This time, it passed through his ribs before it stopped. Mikhail took a small cautious breath.
Although the pain was intense, it had not punctured his lung. One false move however and-
"Do you hate me, brother?" The Emperor whispered, bending down close to his ear. "Do you despise me and wish for my death?"
Fuck.
He could not hesitate, and though every cell in his body screamed that he must lie and answer: No. Never, the truth tore from his lips before he could stop himself.
"Yes!" He yelled.
He felt himself jerk backwards again as the Emperor withdrew the blade, leaving him to collapse on the floor.
The pain made it difficult to move at all, but Mikhail struggled to turn on his side. The Emperor watched him with an expression of mock pity.
"Good," he said at last. "That is good. I know you have spoken truth to me, brother."
The blood-stained sword clattered to the ground beside him as the Emperor turned his back and walked away.
"Steward!" He called.
The door opened to admit the servant. He glanced toward Mikhail and the pool of blood that he lay in, and did not even wince.
"Our brother has had an unfortunate accident and injured himself. See to it that he is escorted to his rooms... and send someone to clean this up!" The Emperor ordered.