smile like a loaded gun

WHEN YOU TALK AND EVERYBODY LISTENS

then you walk and everybody whispers

Vikari's stillness was a testament to his control.

For him, this night had been torturous in many ways, and anger burned clean where chaos tried taking root. Smiling through the sneers of lesser men, enduring their doubts and disdain, the indignity of their derision, had chafed against the worn threads keeping him together until they threatened to unwind. Every look, every laugh, every thinly veiled insult about his legitimacy—it all gnawed at him like rats at a carcass. By the end of it, he felt as though his own skin might slough off, exposing the seething rage underneath.

How tempting it had been to snap. And, oh, how he had wanted to.

The thought of signaling for his staff to latch the locks had lingered in his mind throughout the night, a dark enticement drawing him towards vengeance—towards retribution. One discreet gesture, and his aides would slide the heavy doors shut before any of those vultures had a chance to flee. Before they could register the danger present before them. It would have been so easy to strip away his polite facade and make them pay for their arrogance, hypocrisy, and smug sense of superiority.

Or he could allow them to leave only to follow in steady pursuit, keeping distance until the most inebriated of the pack fell behind, until he could close in and drag him to his doom, was an idea so savory he felt his mouth water. Watching the fear bloom in his eyes would have satisfied as a sweet treat after the main course.

But no. Rage, uncontrolled, was a blunt instrument—it would batter him apart before it ever struck his enemies. He had no choice but to master the tempest within, to rein in his emotions until the cacophony quieted to clarity. Their disappearances would be too conspicuous, their deaths damning. He could not sabotage those years of struggle and sacrifice for a fleeting moment's vindication.

So, instead, he had smiled. He'd smiled whilst the anger in his blood made it boil, until the heat crept up his neck and flooded his ears with a molten flush, until searing indignation began to cool, until his heartbeat slowed and its rhythm returned, at last, to reason. This was all proof that he, the All-Father, could subdue his fury and grind it smooth by the sheer force of his own will. That thought had contented him, had turned his smile sanguine, and Vikari had let them leave with their heads still attached.

fin