Objectively, Khan is being treated pretty well. As a traitor to family and country, it wouldn’t be surprising if the servants withheld his food and beat him intermittently.
If Khan was the captive of the unscrupulous nobles of the capital, he would have to face all manners of humiliation. He would be paraded under his shame, cursed by thousands. It’d be incredibly bad seeing as he’s a high noble.
It’s easy to forget since Victory doesn’t involve itself in court politics and Duke James has the smallest territory of the three ducal families, but Khan’s family is one of the most powerful in Harvest. Nothing gets the masses as excited as tearing down their betters.
In that light, Khan’s treatment is almost saintly. That doesn’t mean he looks good. He’s clean, so someone must have wiped him down and changed his clothes. Unfortunately, most of the people I’ve seen here do not understand the proper dress for their cold homeland. The duke’s house can’t be compared to the temperature outside but there is a chill in the air. One the thin shirt and simple pants Alana’s brother is wearing can’t protect him from.
Khan doesn’t have his father’s bulk. He was thin when I first saw him. After a week, possibly more, of not properly eating, his face is looking a little thin. His long hair looks greasy and falls into his face, but I can imagine the deep bags under his eyes. The hard floor and lack of cushions don’t exactly promote a good night’s rest.
He looks up as I step inside. With his hands chained to the floor, he has to flip his hair out of his face. A mostly futile effort but it’s enough to free up one glaring eye. Mm, those bags are as deep as I imagined.
“You’re here.”
“You don’t look happy to see me.”
“Why should I be?” He clicks his tongue. “Suppose I should be grateful for the reprieve from your creature. I don’t understand why you keep that thing around. Or do you have a weird fetish, enjoying some thing feeling around in your mind?”
Hm? Let me see. Ah, of course. I ordered Geneva not to hurt him. That didn’t exclude making him uncomfortable. “You understand the estrazi you like to praise so much did the same thing. Worse, actually. My pet is only looking for faults. They’re the ones that broke your mind in the first place.”
“I’m not broken.”
“The fact that you think that shows just how good a job they did. But forget that. I have good news! You’re a lucky man, Khan. Despite you apparently not caring about them, you have a family that loves you. Every single one of them spoke for you to your father.”
“I care about—"
“In the end, it was agreed that Alana will take responsibility for you. You will be our guest once we return to the Grand Hall where my pet will attempt to restore your mind. It really is a lucky deal. Your sister happens to be loved by the one person with the potential to help you. Instead of being executed tomorrow, you get to sleep in a soft bed and eat good food. Even if we fail, you won’t be in any pain. If we’re successful, you get a second chance. The saints must love you.”
“The north doesn’t thank the saints. Have you ever heard of a saint that fought in the north?”
Huh. Now that he mentions it…no, I can’t think of a story where a saint fights a titan. So not even the saints support this war. That should have been Victory’s first clue that they were walking the wrong path. “Then thank your ancestors. No, thank Alana.”
“I will.” He isn’t thrilled by the news but he’s happy. Anything would look good in the face of death. “Are you going to release me from my chains?”
“Not yet.” Come in.
Khan’s eyes snap to the door as Geneva enters. He flinches as she smiles.
“Your family still needs you for tomorrow. Apparently, simply being mentally violated isn’t enough to earn a pardon from the people of Victory. You have to be a raging lunatic. Your father needs you to put on a convincing performance. I’m here to evaluate your acting skills. If you can’t handle the performance on your own, my pet here with give you some lessons.”
His mouth twists in distaste at the thought. “…what do I need to do?”
“I think the point of a lunatic is to do something unpredictable. Maybe throw in a little anti-human rhetoric, curse your father a few times, and, I don’t know, wish for a warm spring. Heretical stuff that’ll make people think you’ve lost your mind.”
After several moments of him staring at me in incomprehension, I clap my hands. “That means now. Let the show begin.”
“Just…do it?” he says nervously.
“Do you need to do a few vocal exercises? I can wait.”
“No…” He clears his throat. “Er, curse you—"
“Stop, stop.” I hold up my hands. “Where’s the emotion? You’ve just betrayed your entire family and everything you believe in—"
“I haven’t—"
“Where’s the heartbreak? Where’s the regret? Where’s the righteousness? Where’s the anger? Come on, brother. Put some heart in it.”
“I thought I was supposed to be a madman.”
“When you think of madmen, do you think quiet and sensible? No! You think loud, wild, and dangerous. Again.” I wave for him to give it another try.
He clears his throat again. “Curse you, Father! Er…” He pauses before muttering, “It’s hard to think of a villain’s lines.”
I shake my head. “Think of the opposite of what you really want to say.”
He thinks about it before trying again. “You’re all idiots. The ancestors were idiots. Harvest is run by idiots. You’re only alive because the estrazi don’t care enough to slaughter us. I tried to save you. To bring peace to the north. You’d rather throw your lives away pointlessly. Even animals treasure their lives more. Proud knights of Victory? HAH! More like idiotic worms. All of you don’t have two brain cells to rub together so you can’t see it now but, one day, you’ll understand I’m saving Victory! I’m saving the world!”
He blinks and lets out a deep breath. “That should get them riled up…though the last part is true.”
I clap slowly. “Good. Much better. You just need to do that for two minutes straight.”
“Two minutes?” he gasps in disbelief.
“Loud and wild, Khan. Have you ever known a madman to shut up? And what are you doing with your body?”
“Nothing?”
“Exactly! That’s a problem. Emphasis on the wild. These people need to think that you’ve completely lost your mind. Right now, you sound like a traitor. You need to sound like a crazy traitor.”
“Lou,” my pet says with deceptive casualness.
“I know.”
“What?” Khan asks nervously.
I sigh. “We’re leaving tomorrow. I’m not spending our last night here away from Alana. That means when the dinner bell rings, I’m gone. You have until then to convince me that you can play your part. If you can’t then I can only ask her to help you.”
He recoils at the suggestion. “You can’t!”
“Don’t worry. I’m here to make sure nothing goes wrong. I’ll even knock you out first.”
“No, I can do it alone!”
I sympathize with him I do, but isn’t it too late to be concerned about these things? His mind is no longer his own. How can you be prepared to die but not be prepared to suffer a little to live? “Don’t worry. You can entrust yourself to me.”
Objectively, Khan is being treated pretty well. As a traitor to family and country, it wouldn’t be surprising if the servants withheld his food and beat him intermittently.
If Khan was the captive of the unscrupulous nobles of the capital, he would have to face all manners of humiliation. He would be paraded under his shame, cursed by thousands. It’d be incredibly bad seeing as he’s a high noble.
It’s easy to forget since Victory doesn’t involve itself in court politics and Duke James has the smallest territory of the three ducal families, but Khan’s family is one of the most powerful in Harvest. Nothing gets the masses as excited as tearing down their betters.
In that light, Khan’s treatment is almost saintly. That doesn’t mean he looks good. He’s clean, so someone must have wiped him down and changed his clothes. Unfortunately, most of the people I’ve seen here do not understand the proper dress for their cold homeland. The duke’s house can’t be compared to the temperature outside but there is a chill in the air. One the thin shirt and simple pants Alana’s brother is wearing can’t protect him from.
Khan doesn’t have his father’s bulk. He was thin when I first saw him. After a week, possibly more, of not properly eating, his face is looking a little thin. His long hair looks greasy and falls into his face, but I can imagine the deep bags under his eyes. The hard floor and lack of cushions don’t exactly promote a good night’s rest.
He looks up as I step inside. With his hands chained to the floor, he has to flip his hair out of his face. A mostly futile effort but it’s enough to free up one glaring eye. Mm, those bags are as deep as I imagined.
“You’re here.”
“You don’t look happy to see me.”
“Why should I be?” He clicks his tongue. “Suppose I should be grateful for the reprieve from your creature. I don’t understand why you keep that thing around. Or do you have a weird fetish, enjoying some thing feeling around in your mind?”
Hm? Let me see. Ah, of course. I ordered Geneva not to hurt him. That didn’t exclude making him uncomfortable. “You understand the estrazi you like to praise so much did the same thing. Worse, actually. My pet is only looking for faults. They’re the ones that broke your mind in the first place.”
“I’m not broken.”
“The fact that you think that shows just how good a job they did. But forget that. I have good news! You’re a lucky man, Khan. Despite you apparently not caring about them, you have a family that loves you. Every single one of them spoke for you to your father.”
“I care about—"
“In the end, it was agreed that Alana will take responsibility for you. You will be our guest once we return to the Grand Hall where my pet will attempt to restore your mind. It really is a lucky deal. Your sister happens to be loved by the one person with the potential to help you. Instead of being executed tomorrow, you get to sleep in a soft bed and eat good food. Even if we fail, you won’t be in any pain. If we’re successful, you get a second chance. The saints must love you.”
“The north doesn’t thank the saints. Have you ever heard of a saint that fought in the north?”
Huh. Now that he mentions it…no, I can’t think of a story where a saint fights a titan. So not even the saints support this war. That should have been Victory’s first clue that they were walking the wrong path. “Then thank your ancestors. No, thank Alana.”
“I will.” He isn’t thrilled by the news but he’s happy. Anything would look good in the face of death. “Are you going to release me from my chains?”
“Not yet.” Come in.
Khan’s eyes snap to the door as Geneva enters. He flinches as she smiles.
“Your family still needs you for tomorrow. Apparently, simply being mentally violated isn’t enough to earn a pardon from the people of Victory. You have to be a raging lunatic. Your father needs you to put on a convincing performance. I’m here to evaluate your acting skills. If you can’t handle the performance on your own, my pet here with give you some lessons.”
His mouth twists in distaste at the thought. “…what do I need to do?”
“I think the point of a lunatic is to do something unpredictable. Maybe throw in a little anti-human rhetoric, curse your father a few times, and, I don’t know, wish for a warm spring. Heretical stuff that’ll make people think you’ve lost your mind.”
After several moments of him staring at me in incomprehension, I clap my hands. “That means now. Let the show begin.”
“Just…do it?” he says nervously.
“Do you need to do a few vocal exercises? I can wait.”
“No…” He clears his throat. “Er, curse you—"
“Stop, stop.” I hold up my hands. “Where’s the emotion? You’ve just betrayed your entire family and everything you believe in—"
“I haven’t—"
“Where’s the heartbreak? Where’s the regret? Where’s the righteousness? Where’s the anger? Come on, brother. Put some heart in it.”
“I thought I was supposed to be a madman.”
“When you think of madmen, do you think quiet and sensible? No! You think loud, wild, and dangerous. Again.” I wave for him to give it another try.
He clears his throat again. “Curse you, Father! Er…” He pauses before muttering, “It’s hard to think of a villain’s lines.”
I shake my head. “Think of the opposite of what you really want to say.”
He thinks about it before trying again. “You’re all idiots. The ancestors were idiots. Harvest is run by idiots. You’re only alive because the estrazi don’t care enough to slaughter us. I tried to save you. To bring peace to the north. You’d rather throw your lives away pointlessly. Even animals treasure their lives more. Proud knights of Victory? HAH! More like idiotic worms. All of you don’t have two brain cells to rub together so you can’t see it now but, one day, you’ll understand I’m saving Victory! I’m saving the world!”
He blinks and lets out a deep breath. “That should get them riled up…though the last part is true.”
I clap slowly. “Good. Much better. You just need to do that for two minutes straight.”
“Two minutes?” he gasps in disbelief.
“Loud and wild, Khan. Have you ever known a madman to shut up? And what are you doing with your body?”
“Nothing?”
“Exactly! That’s a problem. Emphasis on the wild. These people need to think that you’ve completely lost your mind. Right now, you sound like a traitor. You need to sound like a crazy traitor.”
“Lou,” my pet says with deceptive casualness.
“I know.”
“What?” Khan asks nervously.
I sigh. “We’re leaving tomorrow. I’m not spending our last night here away from Alana. That means when the dinner bell rings, I’m gone. You have until then to convince me that you can play your part. If you can’t then I can only ask her to help you.”
He recoils at the suggestion. “You can’t!”
“Don’t worry. I’m here to make sure nothing goes wrong. I’ll even knock you out first.”
“No, I can do it alone!”
I sympathize with him I do, but isn’t it too late to be concerned about these things? His mind is no longer his own. How can you be prepared to die but not be prepared to suffer a little to live? “Don’t worry. You can entrust yourself to me.”
