This is part of a bigger story, but I want to put it down as is, whether the events are clear or not. I’m also experimenting with less flowery prose. Tell me if this is better or worse!

“You’re not really a titan, are you?” said the little girl, brushing the wrinkles out of her dress. Few noble families would ever let their children play in clothing so extravagant, but she looked unconcerned.

“Why, of course I am,” said the man. He was on one knee, where he had helped the child to her feet. She still had to look up at him. “I wouldn’t be this tall if I wasn’t.”

“Well, then you’re not a regular titan.” She looked no older than four; her fluid speech indicated the finest upbringing. She was probably royalty.

Two older boys stood a few paces away, their eyes darting nervously from the girl to the giant kneeling before her. She glanced back as if to reassure them, then looked down at her scuffed knees.

“You’ll be fine.” The man smiled, but he did not look happy. “With any luck, no one will know.”

The girl looked at something over the man’s enormous shoulder and giggled. Then she spun around and chased after the boys. They snapped out of their anxiety and ran off toward the center of the courtyard, laughing and shouting as they took turns letting her catch them, then flying off to watch the next chase from the air. So they were royals, and talented indeed.

“Argus. Come to me.”

The man stood and turned to face the voice. The Rajah of Nea Parvati was not a small man, but he barely reached the height of the titan’s chest. Argus moved to kneel once more.

“Stand up. We’ll have none of that.” The Rajah spoke softly, as though addressing family. “Let’s walk.”

Argus and the Rajah walked side by side down a vaulted hall leading from the palace courtyard to one of the outer terraces. Beyond the terrace, Argus could see the distant curve of the horizon, a blue-white arc suspended over the lights of the capital city. The vastness of the planet below was made small by the clarity of its edges. He had seen this on countless worlds, entire civilizations spread wide before the bridge of his ship, and every time it had been his duty to destroy everything he saw. The city beneath the palace was beautiful and fragile. Argus turned his eyes to the floor.

“I’m sorry my children were surprised by you, Argus,” said the Rajah, looking straight ahead. “You’re the only titan who’s been kind to them.”

“They are children. How can one be otherwise?”

The Rajah raised an eyebrow. As they stepped out onto the terrace, he appeared lost in thought. A group of noblemen hustled by, bowing nervously and keeping their distance from the warrior. The Rajah did not appear to notice. When they reached the edge of the terrace, he looked up at Argus with narrowed eyes.

“Today was the first time you’ve met the other titans, is it not? What do you think of them?”

Argus leaned on the railing. “You would have me speak truthfully?”

“I would have nothing less.”

The giant held his breath, choosing his words carefully. “They’re brutes, my lord. Barely men at all. They have a bloodlust that chills my heart. They believe in nothing.”

“And what do you believe in?”

Argus paused. No one but Mara had ever asked him that.

“I believe in the things that make us men. Reason, honor, wisdom…”

“And this is what makes you fight?” The Rajah cast his eyes upon the city below him, his brows tense, like an anxious father. Argus struggled with the question.

“I fight because you ask it of me. That is enough.”

“Oh, would that it were!” The Rajah’s voice was strained by something akin to guilt. “Your ship has told me of your doubt. Of the anguish you feel at the blood you spill in my name.”

So Mara had spoken for him. Argus did not protest.

“Of all my titans, you are by far the bravest and strongest. Yet it pains me to demand such service from you! The others are content to slaughter and pillage, but you are no monster. The intellect that makes you my most cunning warrior also makes you a righteous man.”

The Rajah gripped the titan’s shoulder as if to steady him. Argus had known all of this, but he had not expected anyone to see it from afar. Mara had been honest for his sake; he knew then that her concern for him was genuine.

“I am just a soldier, my lord. My beliefs do not matter.”

“No, they are everything. Soldiers are groomed for war, but we trained you only to exterminate. And through all the fire and death, you alone have held fast to your integrity. You are a wolf among dogs, Argus, and for that you are ten times the man I could ever be.”

“But you are Rajah.” The words fell involuntarily from Argus’s lips.

“I am Rajah,” said the smaller man. “But I am not your conscience.”