Chapter 662: Ending the game(3)
Thalien swirled the wine in his cup with the lazy elegance of a man who’d never known real fear—or at least had learned to dance with it. He lifted it toward Cretio in an unreturned toast, holding the gesture long enough that the absence of reply became its own kind of silence.
For all his youth and foolishness, everyone who knew Thalien agreed on one thing: the boy moved through life with the sort of unflappable levity that made you wonder whether his soul had been stitched from the wind itself.
Even now, surrounded by stone walls that groaned under the weight of a siege, his grin seemed to defy the very idea of despair.
But his drinking companion did not share in that rebellion. Cretio sat motionless, arms crossed, eyes locked onto the younger man with a stare that had worn down steel and silenced braver voices. His cup remained untouched.
Thalien gave a small huff, dropping his arm and placing the wine on the table with theatrical disappointment. "Bloody hells," he muttered, "I’d find a better drinking partner among the horses in the stables. At least they’d nod along when I speak."
He leaned back in his chair, arms behind his head like a man watching clouds instead of counting arrows.
"Is this truly the gratitude one gets for bringing the fine wine to a man crumbling beneath his own worries? You should taste it, my lord. I swear it’s the most beautiful thing you’ll ever drink—short of the tears of your enemies, of course."
"I have no time for stupid games, nor to wash my tongue with wine " Cretio said, voice cutting like frostbite. "I was interrupted in the middle of work."
Thalien’s brows arched in mock surprise, his gaze wandering the chamber as if expecting to find scribes or armored lords hidden behind the curtains.
"Of course," he said with a chuckle, "I imagine the shouts that echoed through the halls were part of a rather spirited debate with your knights and vassals. Where are they, by the way? Hiding under your desk? Tell them to come out—we’ve wine enough for everyone, though we clearly lack on the cups.
I hope they don’t mind sharing"
"I have heard no solutions from you," Cretio growled. "Only rambling and witless banter."