' softly, with hands as gentle as rain, I shall strangle him '
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"Interesting read," a voice she had never heard makes Myra jump in her place. The book in her hand nearly dropped to the floor as she whirled around, praying for every uncaring god above not to let it be him.
Her soul that leaped out of her body settled back in when she finally saw the voice didn't belong to the damned devil but of his brother, Virat. From the whispers among the servants in the Mansion, she had come to understand he had arrived from London only recently for his university break. Though Myra was interested in what he had been studying and majoring in, she knew better than to inquire the second young master of the hell hole so freely.
"Not my first choice, but it has its moments, I guess," the man continues as he looks up from the cover of the worn red book: The Prince by Nicolo Machiavelli (1532).
Seeing that he wasn't glaring at her as his elder brother would have, nor was he spouting death threats because he had found fault in the method she breathed, Myra decided she wasn't in too much trouble for touching something that wasn't her's.
Granted, she had been fully prepared for it all when she seized the book into her hands, but books had always been Myra's weakness. You can't just expect a bookworm to sit still when there's a whole library of treasure waiting for her to open. So sue her.
With a weak shrug and a light bite to the bottom of her lip, Myra opened her mouth to speak, still hesitant. "I guess," she confessed. "I mean... in theory, speaking of a ruler who has both authority and power entirely from his ability to conquer and destroy all his enemies... even potential enemies, does sound bloody great. But I doubt this approach of tyrannical ruling could last many years in an ideal society if put to use." Her tone grew confident as each second passed when she saw his eyes turn curious to indulging.
Because she missed it, damn it. She missed talking to people without them looking at her like she had gone mad or as if the devil himself possessed her. "A prince who is nothing but a power monger would only destroy his kingdom and its people, and all he'd be left to rule are the graveyards and ashes."
"Maybe," The kind-eyed stranger looked thoughtful. "But from what I watched growing up and how I still see to this day, this is precisely what's happening outside these very walls." He swept a hand towards the window, where they both knew hundreds of innocents were currently toiling in the mines of KGF at this very moment. Innocents whose lives got destroyed in just a blink of an eye after being forced into slavery. "And it has been happening even before I was born?"
