Alistair moved aside and gestured for Silas to walk into the dark room before him. Silas sighed and walked into the room, shaking his head in disappointment.
Since Alistair had lost his hand, he had been overly suspicious and paranoid of everyone around him, including his wife. Silas wasn't a fool; he knew that Leonora's actions had painted a huge target on them both, and now it was up to Silas to resolve this mess.
He wanted a peaceful life where he could visit whores, drink his life away, and make merry, but that life was impossible so long as Alistair remained handless. Without a hand, he was no longer a crown prince, which meant Silas was now a threat.
On the off chance he didn't get killed by his jealous older brother, Silas might have to be king. That was a fate even worse than death. He didn't need additional securities shackling him down.
