The council chamber smelled of crushed flowers. Someone had lined the windows with them, their sweetness leaking into the air. Alpheo very much liked it.
He sat at the head of the table, papers before him, heart thrumming , excited at the prospect of showing the results of a work he had dedicated weeks upon.
"We may commence."
As he said so his gaze moved toward Pontus, the poor bastard who tried the ancient trick of making himself invisible by shrinking into his chair. Clearly taken aback by the great hostility he was shown around the room.
They knew he had been a rat.
The prince, really the only one who was devoid of such hate, almost laughed, disapproved of the shyness, yes, but the man's usefulness far outweighed it.
Above all he would need him for greater things soon, that could win or lose the next war.
His mood soured at the thought of that.
He shook his head and turned to the task at hand. His newest true obsession.
