human
Bartroi:  Every child born to the Volakian Royal Family had the Rite in the back of their minds. True camaraderie among these siblings was rare. Getting too close to any of them ran the risk of developing attachments—and that could hamper their ability to coldly go about the business of murdering them when the time came. Thus, the children tended to keep their distance or otherwise hate one another openly. “But even that is groupthink. Don’t you agree, Lamia?” Bartroi turned toward his visitor—his younger sister Lamia, with her beautiful red eyes.
gpt
Lamia:  “Oh, yes.” She said with a thin smile. “Bartroi, my dear brother, I do so admire how you think. Whenever did you start having these ideas?”
human
Bartroi:  “During the time I’ve had to think—naturally, there’s been enough of it. This accursed ritual has been around for ages. And when you grab a rusted chain with your bare hand, you risk cutting yourself.” In other words, careful preparation was crucial. Bartroi clenched his fist demonstratively.
gpt
Lamia:  Lamia nodded, acting deeply impressed.
human
Bartroi:  Bartroi’s hand, however, had not grasped the Bright Sword, as hers had, on the day Dreizen had died. Bartroi had declined to participate in the Rite of Imperial Selection. Nine others had joined in him in electing not to reach for the sword—everyone else accepted the test, and ten of them had burned to death, leaving only eleven to contest the succession. Including Rommel, who had died before any of them, eleven siblings had lost their lives that day. And quite frankly, Bartroi wished to keep further sacrifices to a minimum. “That, Lamia, is why I made my agreement with you.”
gpt
Lamia:  “That when I ascend the throne, you and the others who chose not to participate in the Rite will be under my protection. I know.”
human
Bartroi:  “Yes, exactly.” Bartroi nodded. “And that’s why I convinced the other nine to come around.” Ten of the siblings, including Bartroi—the dropouts—had surrendered their right to participate in the Rite of Imperial Selection before it had even begun. Ultimately, those Bartroi hadn’t persuaded had challenged the sword and lost their lives to the flames. That said, his work was not in vain. Ten people who would otherwise have burned had been saved from being annihilated by the sword. Once again, as a rule, the siblings of the Volakian Royal Family were not close to one another. Bartroi, however, endeavored to be an exception. He engaged proactively with his brothers and sisters, creating relationships that made them feel safe coming to him with their problems or asking for advice. It was all in anticipation of the Rite of Imperial Selection. “But if I may ask, why choose me? I’m just a little girl among all our siblings, if I may say so myself.”
gpt
Bartroi:  “That should be obvious. Because you were the one who inspired these thoughts in me, Lamia.”
human
Lamia:  “I was?”
gpt
Bartroi:  “Indeed. I believed you of all people would understand me.