He walked over and took a seat on the bed, sinking down beside Josef.
“Listen,” he said. “Remember the plan? We made it. We talked to your mother. She told you what you were going to do, and then you told her what you were going to do. So that’s it. We’re done.”
Josef stared straight ahead and said nothing.
“I’ve been thinking about finding a nice job down south,” Eli continued. “Big money, exotic locals, lots of good fights. If we leave tonight we can probably catch the pirate king’s fleet before he goes back to sea. He’s supposed to employ some of the nastiest swordsmen on the continent. What do you say?”
He turned to Josef with a bright smile, but the swordsman didn’t even look his way, and Eli’s smile fell into a scowl.
“Powers, Josef,” he said, kicking the bed. “Snap out of it. We’re thieves, remember? No one expects anything from us. The queen makes a nice speech, but no country teeters on the presence of one man. You already have a cause, remember? You swore to become the greatest swordsman in the world, the worthy wielder of the Heart of War. That’s a noble goal, and you can’t achieve it here.” He stood up, tugging Josef’s sleeve. “Come on, get your things. I’ll call for Nico and we’ll all get out of here together, tonight, just like we planned.”
He walked to the window and was getting ready to climb out when Josef finally spoke.
“I can’t.”
Eli closed his eyes and cursed silently. When that was done, he turned, keeping his face cheerfully neutral. “Why not?”
Josef made a frustrated sound and ran his scarred hands through his newly trimmed hair. “Do you know why I became a swordsman?”
“Because you’re good at it?” Eli guessed.
“Because it’s the only thing I’m good at,” Josef said. “I was a miserable failure at everything else, being a prince, being a son, being a politician. I hated it, all of it. Swordsmanship was the only thing that made life livable. The only thing I wanted to do.”
He stopped, and Eli shifted awkwardly. This was the most Josef had ever told him about his past, and he wasn’t sure what the swordsman expected him to say. Finally, he settled for putting a comforting hand on Josef’s shoulder. Josef didn’t seem to notice.
“I made my choice when I was fifteen,” he said, his voice low. “In Osera, everything’s about the queen. You live for the queen, fight for the queen, die for the queen. I didn’t want to live for her, didn’t want to live for anyone. I wanted to be a swordsman, to fight for the sake of getting better, not because I was ordered to. So I took my swords and I left. Just walked out. I swore that I would return only when I had become the greatest swordsman in the world.” He clutched his fists together with an intensity that made Eli flinch. “The best,” he said again. “Don’t you see? If I falter, if I take even one step back, then all the problems I caused by leaving—my mother’s suffering, the messed-up succession, Osera’s shame at having a runaway prince—it will be for nothing.”
“Josef,” Eli said. “It’s not—”
“That’s why I never came home before when she tried to make me,” Josef rolled right over him. “But as soon as I saw the poster, I knew this time was different.”
He looked up, and Eli saw with a shock that his eyes were red.
“She’s dying, Eli.” Josef’s voice was so soft Eli could barely make out the words. “My mother is dying. Believe me, I want to dive out that window with you, but I can’t. Not now.” He took a deep breath and leaned back, staring up at the ceiling. “Her telling me she didn’t want me to be king was the final straw, you know. If she’d been unreasonable and demanded that I give up swordsmanship and take the throne, I could have told her to shove off. But all she wants is an heir, a child of the blood to preserve the family. How can I deny her such a small request?”
Eli didn’t think a child was a small request, but he said nothing. They sat for a long while, letting the silence hang like a dead thing in the air between them. Finally, Eli heaved an enormous sigh.
“Bugger all,” he grumbled, pushing himself off the bed. “You picked a really bad time to have a fit of responsibility. Nico’s back on her game, we finally have the chance to pull some real heists, and you have to get all prodigal son on me, Thereson.”
“Don’t start, Eliton,” Josef snapped. “You must be feeling suicidal, posing as the Rector Spiritualis’s son. What made you think of that?”