Kingslayer

He had known this day
would come. No man could escape the entire might of the Sovran forever. He just
found it humorous that it was an enemy of the Sovran that had caught him
instead.

Bound, kneeling before a queen
whom he had hounded for a straight year, he should have been anxious. Or at least
a little worried. Instead, a strange sense of relief filled him. It was over.
His mad escape from Brindisi’s justice was over.

“That is a very calm expression on
your face, General Darius Bresalier,” she observed. Her tone was idle, but her
eyes were as sharp as a hawk’s. “Are you not worried?”

“I knew what the punishment would
be, Your Most High Majesty,” he answered respectfully. “I have had a year to
resign myself to my fate. I cannot complain.”

She gave a low, musical hum of approval. “Well
said. I have heard many reports on what you did but never once did I believe I
could have the full tale.” She leaned forward, causing the silk
pillows behind her to slide in every direction. “Kingslayer, tell me. Why did
you kill your king?”