Vardan knew full well that this young man was the one who would inherit Duke Ruben's title. And once Ruben died, Cilicia's future would descend into even greater chaos and depravity.
"These prisoners," the young man said in a flippant tone, "are my playthings for tonight. Care to come and watch, enjoy the show? Or will you just scurry back to your room and continue being a loyal dog?"
Vardan's hand trembled slightly as a wave of fury surged within him. He suppressed his anger, knowing that acting rashly at this moment would only bring him more trouble.
He watched the young man quietly, his eyes showing not a hint of submission, only a deep coldness.
"You'd best walk away, 'old' General," the young man sneered, a glint of cruelty in his eyes. "Otherwise, you might regret it."
Vardan gave him a cold look, then turned and walked away toward his own room. As laughter and whispers followed him from behind, Vardan's heart grew heavier still.
