What was the difference between him and the man in front of him? Rage drove Tiberius towards the answer. A tumultuous stream of raging thought, crashing through his mind, dismantling structures that he had long since held to be true.
Man? He chortled. It was no man that looked at him there, with that crown perched on his head. That gaze, that posture, those were not the things of a man. There was hardly enough age to him, and yet the stir… Could it be dismissed so easily with the title of boy? Was it not the very reason for their grand reception of him – that frightening honesty with which he carried himself? With his emotions written so plainly on his face. With the anger present there, and the bemusement.
