Page 69 of The Goblin Twins
A’bbni raised a brow at that. “Please come to the point, Var An-Sha’kri,” he said, wishing he sounded more confident.
“We present an opportunity to you, Your Reverence,” Ba’shea said, and his tone made A’bbni’s skin break out in a cold chill despite the heat of the room. “An opportunity to remove your Cousin from the throne. We can continue forward with this coup attempt that will fail. Your brother and your half-breed whore will be killed, and you will end up in the Commander’s bed at the behest of the Emperor.” Ba’shea’s eyes glittered, and A’bbni forced back a shudder. “Or we allow your brother to kill the Emperor, he will abdicate the throne to you, and you will take Commander Hi’jan as your spouse to rule by your side.”
Whatever A’bbni had been expecting to hear, that was not it. He jerked in his chair, almost upending it before unclenching his fingers from his shirt and letting out a sharp breath. “What?” he managed to force out.
“Come now, Your Highness, surely you can see the logic of it,” Mii’ra said. “The people will rally behind you to depose your Cousin.”
“And what of my brother and Lai?” A’bbni asked through gritted teeth.
“Obviously the half-breed will be executed,” Ba’shea said, waving his hand airily. “After all, someone must take the fall for the Emperor’s death. But as for your brother.” He gave him a cold smile. “He will be allowed to live. His level of comfort beyond that would be entirely up to you.”
They would keep Shi’chen alive to ensure that A’bbni was always under their thumb. He narrowed his eyes at Ba’shea. “You would hold us both hostage to your whims.”
“Your Highness.” Mii’ra’s voice held the motherly tone that she had used multiple times with him. “Think of all the good you could do for your people. You would still be in a position of power.”
“As your pawn, with no choices of my own,” A’bbni said stiffly.
“Your choice is now,” Ba’shea replied, folding his hands on the table. “You decide whose blood is shed today, Your Reverence. It can be the Emperor’s, or it can be your brother’s.”
“Either way, you kill Lai,” A’bbni said.
“We could perhaps be persuaded otherwise,” Ba’shea said with a calculated smile. “If you are willing to cooperate with us and the Commander.”
“And how long would I have to cooperate?” A’bbni asked bitterly. “Until enough people support you for you to be able to kill me without repercussions? Until you have enslaved enough of your opponents in my name to not stand against you?”
“This is not about enslaving anyone, Your Highness,” Mii’ra said, her voice low and soothing.
“How is it not, Var An-Sha’kri?” A’bbni demanded, aware his voice was rising. “Because you cannot control my Cousin, you will use my brother to control me instead?”
The look in Mii’ra’s eyes was all the answer he needed to that. They would hold him under their thumbs with the constant threat to his brother and his fear of Hi’jan, whether the Commander laid hands on him or not. “Why are you doing this?” A’bbni asked her softly.
On his other side, Ba’shea laughed, a mirthless sound that sounded like dry wood scraping over sand. The sound made A’bbni’s pulse race further, and he swallowed hard as Ba’shea said, “Frankly, I am surprised you of all people did not figure it out. I had thought you smarter than that, Your Reverence.”
“What are you talking about?” A’bbni asked.
Ba’shea’s mouth curved into a cold smile. “No reason to keep it a secret any longer. Commander Hi’jan Hin-Ve’ssa is my grandson.”
And now he could see it. The same thin lips, the same yellow hawk-like eyes. A’bbni realized why looking at Ba’shea had turned his stomach, and it wasn’t only because of his previous ties to the slave trade. His fingers clenched around the edge of the table. “How?”
“Born to my son’s mistress, but obviously not sharing the same family name made it much easier for him to become a soldier, and then a Captaincy in the palace guard.”
“Just think about it, Your Highness,” Mii’ra said gently. “With the An-Heshars on the throne, you could be free to continue your studies. That is what you want, is it not?”
A’bbni had a feeling the word ‘free’ was used very loosely here, and Mii’ra’s use of the new honorific for the Heshar family did not escape his notice. “Was it planned for him to try to seduce us when he came to the palace?”
“Of course,” Ba’shea said with a throaty chuckle. “Our exact plans would be determined by whom he was able to get closer to. Just think, Your Reverence, all this unpleasantness and all those deaths could have been avoided if you had just spread your legs for him.”
A’bbni jolted out of his chair, knocking it to the floor with a clatter. He darted around Mii’ra and lunged for the door handle. But suddenly Ba’shea had leapt up and grabbed him by his ponytail with surprising speed and strength for his age, and jerked him back with enough force that he stumbled backward into the table. “Sit down, boy.”
He shoved A’bbni to his knees next to his chair, still holding his hair as tears stung A’bbni’s eyes from the tension.
“You think I would submit to your beast of a grandson after what he did to me?” A’bbni demanded, his hands coming up to claw at Ba’shea’s grip on his hair. “I would rather die than let him touch me again!”
“What is he talking about, Vr Ii-Heshar?” Mii’ra asked. A’bbni turned his eyes toward her.
“Did he not tell you, Var An-Sha’kri?” he asked, deciding to let the tears of pain spill down his cheeks. “Did he not tell you that his grandson tortured me and raped me in this very room? In front of my brother and the Emperor?”
Mii’ra’s gold eyes went wide, and she looked up at Ba’shea. “Is… is that true, Vr Ii-Heshar?”
