Valtherion picked up the crystal ball and sat down in one of the armchairs by the window. After settling it on his lap, he leaned forward slightly and peered into its depths, as though trying to see the emperor beyond the projected image.
The old man needed no further confirmation.
That was Valtherion.
The same man he had known as a boy, back when he was nothing more than a street urchin, distrustful of everyone and incapable of accepting orders without understanding the reasons behind them.
Accusing him of something was a peculiar experience. Valtherion would simply listen, observe the accuser for as long as he deemed necessary, and then, once the man had finally finished speaking, wait for him to come back and apologize.
He never justified himself. He never rushed to defend himself. And above all, he never seemed to believe he owed anyone an explanation simply because they had accused him of something.
The emperor sighed.
"Even so, I feel like you're hiding something."
