Nova was annoying.

He cried over everything. He could not hold a sword correctly. Ifrit could not go anywhere in the palace without him clinging to his sleeve. It got in the way of his plans.

Lorn had yet to acknowledge him. Perhaps he was not so fond of Nova after all? Oh well. Irdat had been angry enough that he had extended his stay.

He was relieved to be back on his ship. He told Hannan, even, that he had understood her feelings for the first time. She was young enough and stupid enough that she believed him.

The next time he came back, the child clung to him again, as though only a minute had passed instead of a year.

He let him braid his hair, watching his clumsy, small hands slowly move. He was terrible at it; Ifrit made a mental note to have Ardnand redo the braid whenever he could get rid of him for the day. He still had to visit with Casul about the church's funding, and Vivan about a personnel exchange. He despised both of them. Casul was a spineless heretic who distorted Cascur's word, and...

Nova's sleeve rode up. He had been concealing a small, half-healed injury. Ifrit caught his wrist, bringing it up to study it.

" What's this?" he asked.

Perhaps he'd been punished more harshly now that Ifrit had taken Lorn's protection away from him? That would be amusing.

Nova's scrunched up, miserable face looked like that of a prisoner of war. As he spoke, Ifrit became angry.

Was this Vivan's way of getting back at him for the blackmail? How stupid could he possibly be? He must've known that Ifrit had transferred assets to the younger lya's estate. He surely wasn't enough of a degenerate to set his hands on any younger brother that Irdat bore?

He let go of Nova's wrist when he realized his grip was too strong. He put on a gentle face, though internally he was seething. Of course trying to take this child into his faction would end up with the others treating him as a weak point while he was away. He had never outwardly displayed any such weakness before; that idiot Vivan, who claimed to abhor politics, acted as simply as he thought.

He ended up not being able to send the child away; he had Ardnand watch over him as he slept. With his hair properly fixed, with his clothes immaculate, he went to visit Vivan.

He was lounging around the parlor of his estate, wreathed in escorts and half dressed.

" Lyena, you're early-"

He beat him into the floor. He drew his sword and did not stop hacking at him with it until a vague sense of relief settled in his soul. He had wanted to punish him for his transgressions for so long. He regretted that he could not kill him, but at least with this, he knew that Vivan would not run crying to Irdat, who, ignorant of his true nature, always pitied and nurtured him. Ifrit leaned over his body, grabbing him by the hair.

" Next time I hear your name issue forth from the lya's lips, I will kill you," he said. " I will bash your face in until it resembles the red slurry of an autumn tide. I will tear your intestines out while you are still alive. I will flay your skin from your body. Are we clear?"

Vivan laughed at him weakly, flecks of blood staining his coat.

Clearly he hadn't been beaten hard enough.

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