“Veradis, you once said you would leave the politicking to me. You win battles. I win thrones. Some things are hard to understand when you are too close, but afterwards, you would have seen that I was right.” “You killed your father,” Veradis whispered. Nathair stared at him, mouth open, about to say something but the words were gone or frozen in his throat. “Keep your twisted vindications to yourself,” Veradis said. “You killed your father. You opened his throat with your own knife, then stabbed yourself with the same blade to avoid implication. You are not the Bright Star. Maybe you could
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