Ron nudged Eli. “Look. He’s primping.”

Eli glanced at Dom. The king had just stepped into the anteroom and was inspecting his face in the looking glass beside the entrance to the platform.

Eli snorted.

Dom turned from the looking glass and beckoned them. Eli fell in line behind Luc, and as one they put on a grave demeanor. They stepped one at a time out onto the platform in solemn procession.

The Tognir people quieted in reverent awe as they took their places on the platform, Dom on the left of the Stone Throne—the ceremonial seat of power in the kingdom— Eli and Dad standing to the right.

Behind them came the Takers carrying the Kar-Tog child, bound hand and foot. The human’s eyes found theirs, wide with fright.

Eli sneered to hide a grimace.

“Today is the day we offer our homage to the eternal queen, the Eltana,” Dom intoned. “May it please her to accept this life and spare ours.”

“May it please her,” echoed Eli and the Tognir as one.

He then produced the sacred knife from within his robes and with both hands presented it to Dad.

“We accept the knife from the hands of the Guardian,” Dad said, “whose diligence we honor in obtaining this sacrifice.”

Eli thrilled a bit at the words. Though they were only ceremonial, Dad always laced them with a trace of aquamarine pride.

Dad then crossed the stage and knelt to present the knife to Dom, who took it and touched the top of Dad’s bent head with the still-wrapped blade.

“We accept the knife from the hands of the High Guardian, whose vigilance we honor in ensuring this sacrifice.”

Dad stood and retreated to his spot. The Takers led the kid to the carved and gilded Stone Throne and forced him to kneel before it.

Fear, sharp and pungent, coursed through the Kar-Tog’s presence as Dom unwrapped the blade and held it up for the crowd to see. Crimson, made of stone, it did not shine in the light, though it gave a dim pulse of some internal light that thirsted for blood.

“Now we offer the sacrifice, instituted from the new moon, in vengeance and in worshipful adoration.”

Dom strode to take his place, turned the Kar-Tog to face the crowd, and standing behind him, yanked his hair.

The kid straightened. His aura lit up with vibrant, pained greens.

“Your ancestor murdered mine,” Dom announced, “on this night, when no moonlight shone. You are guilty of the blood of the Eltana’s chosen King, first among my fathers. Now due vengeance will be had. You die to please the Eltana.”

Without a further word, Dom plunged the blade in.

The crowd stilled.

Eli bit his lip.

The Kar-Tog stiffened. Both the blade in his heart and the orb enshrined in the back of the Stone Throne flashed brilliant red, filling the Palace Circle with crimson light.

Dad caught Eli’s eye and smiled. His blue eyes twinkled with pride, and aquamarine coursed through his aura, strengthening Eli without a word. Dad was proud of him. He’d done what he needed to, for Mom, for the Tognir. And that was the most honorable thing he could do.

“The sacrifice has been accepted. The Eltana is pleased, and we are preserved from her wrath. Give thanks.”

The Takers retrieved the Kar-Tog’s limp body.

Dom nodded at Eli and Dad and strode to the edge of the platform, where the Tognir people jostled to form a line and handed over their gifts, offerings of sparkling gems, delicacies, and vibrantly-dyed cloths. They followed him and took their places to receive the offerings.

A smiling baroness pushed a sparkling crystal goblet into Dad’s hands. The violet gems embedded around the rim of the cup sparked with their own internal brilliance as Dad inspected it.

“A fine offering,” he commended the baroness, whose presence glowed with turquoise pride. “The Eltana will be pleased at the honor you pay her servants.”

Something twinged nearby. Eli glanced at Dom—the brat glowered at Dad, and envy boiled verdant in his aura.

“Such a gift is not worthy of you.” Dom strode across the stage. “Give it here.”

“He received it,” Eli growled.

Dom shoved past him and snatched the goblet from Dad.

“It is mine.” He examined the crystal, his eyes shining with avarice. “Yes, this will do nicely for my table.”

“I had hoped,” Dad began, but Dom’s eyes began to glow, and Dad dropped to his knees. His aura pulsed green. His teeth clenched in pain.

“It is mine. You have no right to it.”

Eli’s fists curled. “Of course he has a right to it. He received it. It’s his.”

Dom shifted his glowing gaze to Eli, his eyes narrowed in warning. “Do you really wish to dispute this?”

“Eli, just drop it,” Dad said. “It’s alright.”

Eli glanced between them, his blood racing. Dad’s pained gaze made him relent.

“Fine.” He hauled Dad off the floor. “Come on. Let’s go.”

They returned to the anteroom, where Dad began to arrange the offerings in an organized pile. There was plenty to share, but Eli’s heart still galloped hard. Dad worked in silence, though darkness gathered in his aura.

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It wasn’t right. King or not, Dom’s bullying had gone too far. He and Dad had both put up with the brat’s childish boasting when the people had chosen him rather than let Dad be regent, as had been the late king’s request. They’d put up with Dom’s ever-changing whims, and even now Dad kept the kingdom from falling in around their ears, dealing with all the issues Dom wouldn’t “stoop” to address.

But there was something strange about it all. Dom had never attempted to use his terrifying power to threaten Dad in public, and Eli never would have guessed Dom would even try to over something so trivial.

Either the brat was getting cockier, or Dad was going soft. He didn’t like it either way.

They went back out together to gather more.

Dad approached Dom, whose arms overflowed with treasures.

“Let me help you with those, Your Majesty-”

“Get away from me.” Dom kept a smile on his face. The raised walls in his mind meant the crowd could not hear him. “I’m busy right now. I want to make sure you’re not going to steal any more priceless treasures from me.”

“As you wish,” Dad said. His aura was anything but calm, though he put on a steady face and continued to receive gifts.

Eli looked first at his seething father, then glared at Dom. He’d had enough.

“You’re just jealous, Dom.” Eli said it loud so the crowd could hear him.

The Tognir quieted.

Dom smiled. He lowered his gifts to the ground at his feet and bent to retrieve another, but the Tognir who’d been handing him a trinket had stopped to stare at Eli.

He sighed and straightened.

“And what do I have to be jealous of?” Dom spread his arms wide. “I have everything I could want. I merely wished to preserve that particular piece for the Eltana’s pleasure, and I had to protect it.”

“Liar. You wanted it for yourself.”

Dom’s eyes glowed. He grinned at Eli, then turned and faced the crowd.

Eli’s gut sank. The stupid kid was going to trick them. Just like he always did. It was how he’d gained the throne, and how he’d kept it despite his haphazard command. It wasn’t right.

“Who will you listen to in this petty debate? I want nothing to do with it.” He spun a convincing web of sincerity into his words. “I know what I was doing was pious and noble, and you know it as well.”

The Tognir, under his spell, murmured their forced agreement.

Eli’s insides seethed. No way would he get away with this one.

He stormed across the stage, swung Dom around by the collar of his colorful robes, and smashed his fist into the brat’s nose.

Dom toppled to the platform floor.

The Tognir women shrieked.

Dad’s presence flickered aqua pride, golden satisfaction, and violet fear.

Eli stood over Dom, his breath ragged. His fist throbbed, and he bit back a satisfied grin.

Two Takers rushed to heave Dom off the floor.

The disgruntled prince, covering his nose and the cloud of blood coming from it, glared at Eli. “You have committed a grave dishonor, Eli, an offense near sacrilege.”

The Tognir muttered their agreement.

Eli sobered, his fist unfurling, and he sought the protection of Dad’s gaze. Dad refused to look at him. The triumph pulsing through him chilled to fear.

“I think it only fitting that an officer who would attack my person, publicly at that, should be tried for treason and imprisoned.”

Eli froze even as the Takers moved to seize him. The reality of what he’d done hit home as the Tognir shouted their assent. Treason? Prison?

Was it all over for him so quickly?

“No!” Dad cried as the Takers moved to seize Eli. “Not that.”

They hesitated.

Dom’s eyes narrowed. “What would you propose, High Guardian Luc, as a fitting punishment? He must be punished.”

The Tognir again sounded their agreement.

Eli felt their stares on him, hot and angry like sunbeams. He made himself stand tall. Dad would find a way out. He always did.

“An offense this grave could merit death,” Dom said. “My suggestion of imprisonment was really quite merciful.”

Death? Eli’s mind reeled.

“Let me decide.” Dad put a protective hand on Eli’s shoulder. “He is under my command.”

“Pretty talk coming from his father,” Dom countered. “Suggest to me a fitting punishment, and I will give my approval or disapproval.”

Dad glared at Dom.

The prince gave a condescending smile.

“I’ll take away his Guardianship for a time.”

The Tognir murmured, and Dom’s smile twitched up a bit.

Eli glanced at his blue robes, glinting in the dim light. His heart sank. There went everything he held dear.

“Very good to begin with,” Dom said. “What else?”

Eli shot Dom an incredulous glare.

“Is that not dishonor enough?” Dad’s voice pleaded.

Dom sniffed. “I think not. I think perhaps a little public penance is due. I think he should be made to retrain among the new Takers and learn again what honor is due to his king.”

Eli opened his mouth, but Dom glared at him, his green eyes glowing. An edge of lime-colored pain penetrated his mind. He forced his mouth closed and resigned himself to glowering.

“And I think his probation should last until he is able to pay me the proper honor with sincerity.” Dom nodded at Dad. “I will approve this method of punishment with my addition. I think it is a reasonable and merciful course of action.”

“Dad,” Eli whispered. “Don’t let him do this to me.”

Dad’s gaze was firm, his aura edged with deep violet disappointment.

Eli looked away. There was nothing he could do, nothing he would do. He knew he’d gotten off easy. He couldn’t ask for any more.

“Face it with courage,” said Dad. “And be grateful you are not in prison.” He turned to Dom. “His probation is effective immediately. I will see to it that he is retrained.” Dad made a short bow and towed Eli toward the anteroom.

“Luc.”

Dad paused. “Yes, Your Majesty?”

“The robes are to stay with me.”

“I will make sure they’re sent to you.”

“Now, Luc.”

Dad’s arm stiffened against Eli’s back. “Give him your robes, son.” Dad’s voice shook.

Eli forced himself to turn back towards the crowd and stared at the ground.

“Look up.” Dad’s aura pried at his, summoning the last remnants of pride he had.

Eli obeyed, composing his features into a poisonous glare. He wasn’t sorry. He wouldn’t be sorry. And he would face the consequences of his actions.

Dom simply smiled.

Eli reached up, wrenched his blues loose. The garments draped into his arms, and he folded them with dignity.

Dom snatched them away and tucked them under his arm. “Thank you. You are dismissed until further notice from the Guardianship.” He waved his hand in dismissal.

Eli gritted his teeth, refusing to bow as was proper, and let the steady pressure of Dad’s hand guide him away.

He knew Dad wasn’t calm as they entered the anteroom. Still, shock rippled through him as Dad shoved him against the wall.

“What in the Eltana’s name were you thinking?”

Eli stared at the floor. No one could make him look up now. Tears he couldn’t shed burned his nose and throat.

“All those years of training, gone just like that.”

“He was insulting you, Dad!”

Dad’s stormy brow softened, and his grip loosened.

“I know, son. But…” He shook his head and let Eli go. “You’ve caused more harm than good. It would have been better to just let it go. I know he’s…” Dad’s fingers curled into a fist, and he forced them to relax. “He’s a good-for-nothing idiot. Nothing like his father.”

“You’re supposed to stick up for me.”

“How can I defend a man who’s just attacked his own king?” Dad growled back. “What would your mother think? You think she’d be proud of what you’ve just done?”

Eli scowled at the floor as his blood turned to fire. Mom would have done the same thing.

“You realize this means I’m going to have to take your place out there.” Dad sighed. “This is unacceptable.”

“I can get it back.”

Dad looked at him with one hand pressed to his forehead and the other resting on his hip. His aura was a maze of vivid red-oranges and deep, melancholy blues. His blue eyes searched Eli’s.

“You can. And you had better.”

Dom sauntered into the anteroom, his arms loaded with new treasures, and paid them no mind.

Dad added, just so Eli could hear,

“Or heaven help you both.”