With black fragments of olives still caught in his teeth, Merelao let out a laugh.
"Its father?" He wheezed, the sound bubbling up as if he had just heard the punchline to the world's most absurd joke. "You think it's a father that keeps the peace? It's the cold weight of the sword. Men obey you because you're apt at cutting down those who don't.'' He waved a hand around the room''How many of them would follow you were it not for that?''
Very few, Alpheo knew.
''If you want your son to rule after you, you'll have to teach him how to be a killer, not a patriarch." He washed the remnants of the meal down with a heavy gulp of wine, his eyes never leaving the Prince's face.
