All of Belgarath’s formative years were spent in tutelage, under his warlord of a sire. The boys of a certain age lined up every morning, while the girls were left with the women and slaves - to do whatever it is that slaves and women do. His mother was part of his father’s harem, and since she wasn’t the first, or the most beautiful, or the smartest, or anything remarkable at all really, Belgarath had to fight to get himself noticed. You see, Esi’s daddy issues aren’t unique. Everyone with a king/politician/warlord worth their salt (or a manwhore - let’s be honest) probably went through the same type of thing. Females aren’t good for much except breeding and entertainment. The smart ones were taken to the Temple and became untouchable wise women, forever virginal and only powerful when consulted or something dire was imminent.
It’s really just the shittiest luck that Bel’s only offspring that are still around are girls.
The only way to get his approval would be to obtain more power than he, or best him in a fight.
Esi’s fighting an Everest of a battle, so don’t take it personally.
Her indecision is a given, but he will take time out of his very busy day of laziness to help her make a decision. That is what good fathers do, isn’t it? Perhaps he owes that to her mother. Perhaps not. She did disappear without a trace, even after he’d gone to all that work to procure a replacement child (that’s Esi). Ungrateful bitch. He humms in the back of his throat, letting it rumble and roll and grate against his vocal cords. Glacier blue eyes glance down at her, and he breathes out forcefully, letting a cloud of condensation loose.
“Lay it out for me. I don’t want you on the losing side.” And then he waits for her to explain it to him - the pros and cons and options at hand. And why she thinks what she thinks. In case he needs to correct her way of thinking.
belgarath
