#triban

He remembered this room. It had been very long ago – No, it was last year, when Vasri became Emperor. Glorien was here, with his father, the room filled with guest wearing the most beautiful outfits.

‘Ah, look! Isn’t that the girl you like? What was her name again? Loran?’

‘Papa!’ Glorien turned red. ‘Her… name is Loryan…’

She was a spectator, as was he. People were dancing. Twelve dancers moved elegantly in the middle of the room. They were following a pattern, carefully practised for this moment. Dancing had gotten out of favour when it came to entertainment. But they made Glorien wonder why that ever was. His head spun.

His father was talking. It was to someone else, but Glorien listened anyway.

‘With Emperor Ravi it was singing, with Vasri it’s dancing… what will it be next? Acting? Magic tricks? Clowns maybe?’

‘It’s just meant as entertainment.’

‘Ha ha ha! As if we haven’t seen him kissing the blond one! He’s putting his toy on display and it’s painfully obvious!’

‘Darren…’

‘As long as Vasri doesn’t start dancing himself, am I right? Don’t look so pissed, Loui! I’m only joking!’

‘She’s right. The palace is the only place we can keep an eye on him’, Loui said.

Glorien snapped back to the present. The large room was empty, except for Emperor Vasri, sir Loui and lady Triban – it seemed like the Empress and the princess had gone. And there was himself, of course. He dug his fingers into his arm, hoping to distract himself from the pain.

‘Can’t he just be a servant or something?’, Vasri asked, looking down at him. The friendliness from earlier was gone. Glorien could see the repulsion in his eyes.

Loui grimaced. ‘Trust me, I’d rather let him rot away in the dungeon. But…’ He looked at Glorien too. For a moment, he seemed sad. Or maybe he imagined that.

Loui said: ‘My men said the same: it would be sad to waste such a beauty. I’ve seen him move with grace when he was practising with his sword. If he’s such a graceful swordfighter, what would he be as a dancer?’

‘I don’t see it.’

‘Oh dear Vas- eh, Your Majesty!’, Triban said. ‘You’re so unwilling to let anyone touch your dancers, aren’t you? Think about how delighted your friends would be, if the son of that traitorous monster danced so beautifully for them!’ She stepped towards Vasri and leaned forward.

‘Now, what do you think?’

‘I… sure’, Vasri answered, shrinking away slightly.

Triban grinned. ‘Great. There’s your solution!’ She summoned a guard.

‘Will you take this boy to have him cleaned and dressed?’

‘Yes, ma’am.’

The guard yanked Glorien to his feet and pushed him towards a door. The spinning increased.

No, I can’t take much more.

I want to go home.

***

The few instances Triban had met Darren had been enough to get a grip on the man’s character. Unshakable. Goal driven. His sons had proven to be the same. So she was surprised when she saw the fear in the eyes of his youngest son. She couldn’t deny it made her chest flutter.

You’re always like that, Triban, you prey on the weak.

She scoffed and fastened her pace. The clicking of her sandals on the marble ground echoed through the hallway. I am who I want to be.

She’d let her husband finish the rest with Vasri. She couldn’t stand the presence of her brother-in-law any longer. But Loui understood what she was aiming at, whether he agreed or not. He knew exactly what they needed to do to restrict the boy’s freedom as much as possible. To ensure his captivity.

You prey on the weak.

I don’t care. The weakest are the easiest to control. Her pace stopped in front of the door to her rooms. She readjusted the pins that kept her black locks in place, smiling at the memory of the boy’s screaming as he was being tortured. He had been so perfectly under their control.