Page 34 of Eyes of Kings

“Does shehavesomething on you?” he whispers.

“No.”

“Then I cannot understand what this is. August, you do not have the provinces right now. You cannot take this waffling tactic circling San-Er until something changes. The other guards are talking aboutold godsemerging.”

“I have heard about these alleged gods,” August says. “Powerful individuals in the provinces are not my concern. They are still individuals.”

“The provinces are on the brink of revolt,” Galipei snaps. “The rural dwellers will rush to follow the gods popping up left and right. Your soldiers will be flattened in seconds if Calla waves an arm.”

“I’m not sure I agree.”

Galipei’s jaw slackens. “Did you see what Calla could do?”

“I saw the battle that unfolded on this base,” August says. “Why do youthink you were allowed to continue resting undisturbed? We did not so much as attempt evacuation.”

“You did not spend extended time with your adversaries,” Galipei says. “I did. I have seen them operate firsthand.”

August sets his hands in his lap. Lest he slash his palm along the sharpest edge of his desk, quench this itch by running his blood into the open. “Yes, you know them well.”

“Stop it.” Galipei’s voice is rising. “It’s unfair to be bitter at me for not seeing through their ploy—if anything, it only further supports my point. August, you will lose. You cannot meet them out in the provinces. Make a brute force attack now and get San-Er back from the Crescent Societies. Kill Anton. Condemn Calla.”

August has tired of this. “Galipei, enough.”

“Iknowyou—”

“I don’t need you,” August interrupts. “I have advisors. Ten of them, in fact, ready on call.”

Galipei takes a breath. It quavers upon entry. He whispers, “What is wrong with you?”

“I asked you to step back, and I meant it,” August answers. The itch in his palm is spreading. It slithers up his arm, then pervades his chest. “Is that all?”

“Do you think I don’t know you well enough after all these years?” Galipei returns. “Yell at me if you have to. If you are angry that it took me too long to see through Makusa’s charade, then say so. Say something beyond these false pleasantries that I can see through a mile away.”

“I am not angry,” August intones. “Aren’t I speaking outright? I have a war effort that has been thoroughly planned at every juncture. You must join the nobles once we move on from Eigi. You’re injured.”

Galipei’s jaw clenches. “I am your personal guard.”

“You are not up to performance.”

“Then I am your friend.”

August knows what he wants the end of this war to look like. Total control. Peace from one end of the kingdom to the other, a hold secured without any room for argument. Being king is not enough. He must become a god too, because that is how he builds a legacy.

“Don’t be sentimental,” August says. “I suppose you’ll tell me you love me next.”

Galipei is unreadable in that moment. The light is too dim; the morning is too dull.

“And would that be so terrible?” Galipei asks.

August has planned his climb to the top for years. When he imagines the end, he sees himself alone.

“I am not a man, Galipei. I am your king. Kings cannot be loved as men can.”

For a moment, Galipei only stares at him. His features are stone. At last, he does not argue back. He pushes off the desk and turns to go.

“The first cohort of nobles are being transferred to Gaiyu for safeguarding,” August calls as Galipei reaches the door. “Join them. It’s for your own good.”

This is all he advises. He has nothing further to add.