38 Deal with the Snake

"What—?"  Dustan's eyes widened for a millisecond, before he regained his composure. "Do you wish to jest? I have to say you have a bad taste in jokes."

Litch chuckled darkly. "There's no hiding it, 'Dustan'. You may have fooled Kari Faust and the lot. But you can never deceive my eyes." 

"What are you..." Dustan trailed off, frowning.

"I'm saying, I know who you are. Son of King Joseph II Kaisner, also known as the saint—born once every 100 years."

At Litch's words, Dustan felt a sense of dread creeping up from the pit of his stomach. However, his temperament remained unchanged. He smiled at the man.

"I see there is no hiding it. You—"

"Now hold on, Prince." Litch brought his hands up. "Before you use your authority over me, I would like to offer you a deal."

"... You know very well that I have no need for whatever you have to offer." Dustan replied. A drop of sweat trailed down on Litch's temple.