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Xavier noticed, his brow lifting slightly. He gave Aric\'s shoulder a final squeeze, a small, wry smile twisting his lips.

"You\'ll make a fine emperor," he murmured, the words carrying a gravity that left no room for doubt.

He turned, taking a few steps towards a table at the edge of the room. His hand passed over the carved wood, fingers tracing a dusty artifact resting atop it, a small relic of dark stone with intricate markings worn from time. He picked it up, turning it over thoughtfully, the stone\'s dark surface gleaming dully in the lamplight.

Without looking at Aric, he spoke again.

"But to be emperor…" he paused, his gaze distant, "takes more than simply having the strength or skill to be a good one."

Aric followed him, his footsteps soft, his eyes sharp.

"And what does it take, then?" he asked, his voice low, restrained.

Xavier turned, his eyes holding a glint of something unfathomable, as though he were peering through Aric, through the walls of the room, seeing a path only he could perceive.

"That," he said, his voice like a stone dropped into a still pond, "is something you\'ll need to find out on your own."

Aric\'s jaw tightened, but he said nothing. He waited, a tense quiet filling the space between them.

Xavier continued, his words deliberate.

"The steps one man takes to success can lead another straight into ruin. Each of you, you and your brothers, have your own paths to follow. You may wish for the same destination, but the roads…some may demand blood, others betrayal. These choices, the roads you carve with your own hands—that\'s what makes you worthy, or…" He trailed off, a faint sadness in his eyes.

"...unworthy."

Silence settled thickly between them, like a shroud. Aric\'s gaze didn\'t waver, but something shifted in his stance, a thought half-formed flickering behind his eyes. After a long pause, he spoke, his voice so quiet it was barely audible.

"Do you…do you think I can do it?" His words were simple, yet they bore the weight of a thousand doubts. "Become emperor?"

Xavier stared at him, his eyes never leaving his son\'s face, and for a moment, the mask of the emperor fell away, leaving a father who looked at his son with an intensity that bore into Aric\'s very soul.

"Yes."

A breath of relief ghosted past Aric\'s lips, though he caught himself before his expression could betray him. He chuckled, a hint of bitterness in the sound.

"Did you tell my brothers that too?"

Xavier\'s expression didn\'t change. "Yes."

Aric stiffened, a flicker of annoyance flashing across his face. "So, what is it?" he asked, his voice edged with frustration. "What do we all have that makes us…worthy of this throne?"

Xavier turned back to the artifact in his hand, tracing its jagged edges with his thumb, his gaze distant.

"The ruthless desperation of a man hungry for power."

His words fell like stones into the silence.

"Each of you, every one of my sons…has that desire, that gnawing, unyielding hunger." He raised his gaze to Aric\'s, his face hard, eyes cold and calculating. "None of you are good men—and that\'s exactly what makes you all capable of ruling."

A faint chill ran down Aric\'s spine, though he fought to keep his composure intact. The emperor\'s gaze was unyielding, his words heavy with conviction.

"To rule Valeria, you cannot afford the weaknesses of goodness or compassion. This throne demands something else—a willingness to be both judge and executioner, to wield mercy as sparingly as a blade. It requires a pragmatic kind of evil."

He set the artifact back on the table and turned fully to face his son, his expression sharp and assessing.

"But you," he said quietly, his gaze darkening, "you surprise me, boy."

Aric said nothing, but a muscle in his jaw twitched as he held his father\'s gaze, refusing to falter.

Xavier\'s eyes narrowed, a glint of something darker lurking beneath their surface.

"Leading an army to raid and slaughter your own people. These were Valerian garissons and outposts, people who owe allegiance to this empire. And yet you marched against them…your actions speak of a boldness, a willingness to betray just to attain your goal…that I did not expect. So tell me, honestly…" He leaned closer, his tone low.

"Is it the truth?"

Aric clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white, his breath slow and steady as he forced himself to meet the emperor\'s gaze, the silence stretching like a blade\'s edge between them. Finally, after a long moment, he nodded.

"Yes."

Xavier\'s face remained expressionless, though a faint crease appeared between his brows. "Then," he said, his voice low and ominous, "I should kill you where you stand. That is the punishment for treason, after all."

A chill shot through Aric\'s veins, but he forced himself to stay calm, to remain steady, even as the emperor\'s words made his chest tighten, his breath catching in his throat. For a moment, he felt the crushing weight of his father\'s authority and ki, the sheer power that radiated from him, like standing in the shadow of a mountain ready to collapse.

But then, just as quickly as the tension had risen, Xavier sighed, a faint weariness slipping into his expression, and he shook his head, almost to himself.

"I should have done a great many things," he murmured, his voice trailing off, like an exhale, a sigh of regret.

The words hung, a quiet confession, weighted with years of choices and regrets, of roads taken and sacrifices made, each one leading them here, to this room, to this moment.