"Father," Venedikt said firmly, the single word carrying more cold than warmth.
And yet, the effect of it on Sir Slavik was immediate. The smile that had been hesitant since the door opened widened, something entering his eyes that hadn't been there before. Warmth. The particular warmth of a man who had not been certain, until this moment, that he still had the right to be called that.
"Father, I know your own people betrayed you." Venedikt's voice was calm, the kind of calm that required effort to maintain, "Almost killed. Then forced into a service that left you no will of your own and only obedience."
He held his father's gaze without difficulty.
"I know that what happened to us- the way the blame for the mission's failure was placed on you, the way the people who betrayed you then turned their attention toward your family, and to save us you had no real choice other than becoming what you became." A pause. "I understand all of it."
