Alador took a measured breath and continued to speak slowly. “I am as much Lerdenian as I am a Daezun and I am a Guldalian. I cannot trust my father and wish no further association with him other than as necessary. It is time that I accepted my circumstances.” Alador took a deep breath. “If you don’t mind, please get out of my head. It is taking everything I have not to lash back at the intrusion.” Alador had been careful to make sure every word was truth.
Luthian looked a bit taken aback and sat back. He released the spell of seeking and eyed his nephew. “And if I asked you to cast the storm spell in Daezun lands?”
Alador knew this was what Luthian wanted most and chose his answer carefully. “If I felt it was for the greater good of the people in the long run, I would cast your spell.” His soft answer held an edge of doubt.
“Are you sure?” Luthian pressed.
“I would have only one request. I would make it as your nephew and not a member of your guardsmen.” Alador’s eyes dropped in deference.
“Curious. What would that be?” Luthian sounded genuinely surprised.
“I would ask that you not make me cast it in a way that would harm Smallbrook. Despite my casting out by the elder council, my siblings and my mother still reside there. They did not reject me and I wish no harm to them.” Alador knew he was daring to show a bit of weakness, but he had hope that Luthian would grasp it as a way to manipulate and manage his nephew.
“And if I agree to this, that never will I ask you to harm your family you were raised with, then what?” Luthian’s tone held a triumphant edge.
Alador bowed low as he spoke, both arms out wide, palms towards Luthian. “Then I am ever your servant to command.”