The starry night was so vast its edges could not be seen, vanishing into a distant shimmer, just like the world in people's hearts. Looking up now, the myriad stars seemed to correspond to the God-descendants in the mortal realm, like flourishing city-states and tribes scattered across an endless world. And this, too, was precisely the astronomical view held by the priests of Mesoamerica for thousands of years.
"The story of the great chief... enfeoffing all his sons?... The youngest son guarding the hearth?"
Bertad gazed at the starry sky, and also at His Highness. He understood the boundless ambition in His Highness's story, but had not fully grasped what its metaphors pointed to in reality.
"This so-called 'enfeoffing all the sons'—does it refer to the princes of the royal house, or to the princes His Highness will have in the future? If it is the latter, then right now His Highness has only one son, Little Xiuhua. Could it be..."
"And this so-called 'youngest son guarding the hearth'—is it hinting at how to respond if the king favors a younger heir? Or is His Highness not planning to let the eldest son, Xiuhua, inherit the Lake Kingdom?..."
Tangled thoughts flew through Bertad's mind, leaving him unable to sort them out for a moment.
These topics involved succession. They were family matters of the royal house and His Highness, the very foundation of the Alliance and the kingdom. He had always been calm and cautious; now, unable to see through His Highness's intentions, he did not dare answer rashly. Soon, ruler and subject fell silent, sitting opposite each other like stars and moon, not saying a word.
"The Main God bear witness! Bertad, there is no need to overthink it. Tonight it is only you and me, so speak frankly!"