Isec was surprised he hadn’t called in the entire court yet to listen to his ‘clever’ jokes.
“Ashen is a parasite which must be cleansed from this world,” Wesley said, taking a step up the dais towards the throne his father sat upon.
“Ha! Dribble from your mouth that I actually agree with!” Tobius said.
Wesley took another step towards his father as he spoke. “We need a strong ruler who has the gall to do what needs to be done, without pity or remorse. A ruler who can bring about a new age for Caldaea and for House Seynard.”
Tobius’s initial chuckles and snorts then slowed and transformed into a frown.
“Are you calling me weak, boy? How dare you!” Tobius shouted. The king leapt up from the spear-shaped throne, still looking down at the prince.
Wesley, rather than cowering away or whimpering as he would normally, stood at chest-level, staring his father straight in the eye.
What are you doing, boy? Isec was just as confused as Tobius appeared to be.
“I’d have half a brain to give you the same treatment I gave to your whoring mother!” Tobius spat.
“Go ahead, old man. Right now, you bury yourself further into the pit you dug without even realising it.”
Tobius was trying harder to assert his dominance over Wesley, yet somehow failing. “I will have your head, boy!”
“And what would you be left with, father? Hm? You would be left with an aged, failing body, far too old and far too fat to find another breeding wife, a court who despises you, and two daughters who will never rule. Face it, it would be an end to your pitiful dynasty.
“I am your son, your only son. The only heir to the throne, the only future this House has left after all you have done to break us down. Truth is, you need me more than I will ever need you.”
Isec was stunned by what he was hearing. Wesley was standing up to his cruel father with a newfound arrogance, more than he had ever in his entire life.
Where was all of this coming from? Had all this spite towards his father been bottled up inside all this time?
Tobius’s lower lip began to quiver as his jaw remained stuck open. His crown was beginning to tip to the side, sitting ajar atop his bald head.
For the first time in Isec’s career, King Tobius Seynard was speechless.
“My wife will be my queen,” Wesley continued, staring up at his father yet somehow appearing larger than him, “and she will give me plenty of sons and daughters. And if for some reason she cannot bear children or forces herself to lose the child, then I have plenty more whores to impregnate.
“I will be the beginning of the new dawn for Caldaea, father. For too long you have allowed our rivals to think of themselves as equal to us. With the Moon Mother’s blessing, I will take what I want, when I want. I will destroy those who have wronged me. I will bathe the continent in blood if I have to.”
Isec took a step away from the dais, fearful of how Tobius was going to react.
Wesley paused, his eyes widening as he faced his enraged father who remained motionless. “You have tarnished our family’s name long enough, father.”
Tobius pointed his bony finger straight into Wesley’s face to try once more to assert his authority, clenching his teeth tight and practically hissing.
“You little shit. You’ve done it now-”
Everything happened so fast that it took a moment for Isec to comprehend.
Wesley ripped a dagger from his belt, a long poniard with golden crossguards. In a single, swift strike, Wesley sliced through Tobius’s outstretched finger like scissors through paper.
The cut was clean; Tobius’s pointing finger was completely severed from his hand at the knuckle. An obscene amount of blood splashed out in a narrow stream.
The severed, wrinkled appendage made a splat as it landed, before rolling down the steps of the dais. Fresh blood pumped from the fingerless stump on Tobius’s hand, painting the dais and tiled floor with a brilliant red.
Isec’s eyes widened in shock. The dagger.
Something about the signature style of the poniard. The shining crossguards and expensive resin handle.
He immediately recognised the weapon, for it was the poniard that Isec had gifted him. It was the dagger Isec had presented Wesley on his wedding night.
Moon Mother, no. Oh, no.
The king screamed out after a moment, from pain or from shock, Isec was uncertain.
Isec gasped as the realisation of what was happening struck him, taking several steps away but unable to look anywhere else.
Wesley smirked as he wiped his father’s blood from the steel blade against his embroidered tunic. It was a ghastly grin. The blackness in his eyes was darker than midnight.
Tobius sank to the base of the throne, still screaming. The jet of blood did not let up. He clutched at it with his uninjured hand, desperately trying to stop the flow.
Wesley just watched, seemingly petrified by the king’s wailing and squirming, right at his feet.
“Dorval,” Wesley said in a calm tone despite the horror he had just committed. “Would you do the honour, please?”
The giant soldier uttered no words as he stomped over towards the cowering king. His plate armour and chainmail rang as he walked in a menacing chorus of metal.
Isec had taken enough steps back that he would be ready to defend himself if need be, yet Wesley and Sen Dorval did not appear interested in him at all.
For the time being.
Sen Dorval paused in his tracks as he stood overshadowing Tobius, looking straight at Wesley, almost as if waiting
