"Rise, good sir," he said, his words carrying across the silent hall like he was delivering a sermon. "Accidents happen to us all. Your distress shows a good heart, and I would be a poor sovereign indeed if I could not show mercy for an honest mistake."
'And there it is,' Pyris thought with admiration. 'The classic "I'm too noble to be petty" response. He's playing right into our hands.'
Song looked up with perfectly crafted gratitude—the kind of expression that belonged in a museum under "Masterpieces of Emotional Manipulation." He allowed the Emperor to help him to his feet with what appeared to be genuine relief, though Pyris could see the tiny smile hidden in Song's eyes.
'My boy is enjoying this way too much,' Pyris thought fondly. 'I'm so proud.'
The Emperor's wine-stained robes made the whole gesture look almost comical—like watching someone try to maintain dignity while wearing a clown costume—but his voice remained steady as he continued his performance.
