Leo tapped the blue and black metal bars in front of him. They were the oddest thing, a patchwork of the two colors, with the texture of normal metal but the appearance of a shiny liquid across the surface, like an oil slick. Leo had been informed they were made of ‘anti-magic rock,’ although the bars felt and sounded like metal. He wondered if it was ‘rock’ the same way iron came from iron ore, but he wasn’t positive.
He was, however, bored. Leo could never be a criminal, all honor aside, because the sheer boredom of prison would cause him to kill himself. It had been a mere two hours in his ten-by-ten cell under the palace and he was already going stir crazy. After last night, he had figured he could easily sleep, but his sleepless ability was a curse in this moment, keeping him awake. And doing pushups on the rough stone floor only entertained him so long. The complete lack of windows and near-complete lack of furniture wasn’t helping either—the single wooden bench was worth about eighteen seconds of contemplation and no more.
The sound of footsteps coming down the dank corridor outside the bars was a huge relief, and Leo hated himself for not being more sanguine about being locked up. But he couldn’t deny he was happy for some interaction.
Chester, for once not in full plate mail, led the way. He barely looked his age—his eyes had crows feet and his hair was salt-and-pepper with a bit more salt, but he was still muscled like a Greek god, straining at the seams of his white tunic. Benefits of magic, Leo assumed.
Following him was Laurence, a study in opposites from Chester. He was, to put it charitably, scholarly. A bit of a string bean, really. The brown robe of state also felt more bathrobe than anything to Leo. It felt like Laurence was trying for the Gandalf look and not pulling it off, with a sparse white beard and hair that was less ‘too important to care’ and more ‘hobo chic.’
Even in his current state, Leo gave a slight giggle at his own thoughts. I can’t decide if I need to become more mature or if I should hold on to this side of me forever, but I do amuse myself frequently.
The two walked up to Leo’s cell, and Laurence reached out and unlocked it.
“We’ve talked, and the short of everything is, we’re going to follow the outlines of the plan that you have outlined for us, although I would ask a few modifications.”
By this point Leo had been nearly a hundred percent positive he would live, but nearly a hundred wasn’t a hundred, and he very slightly sagged in relief.
He thought it wasn’t notable, but Chester grinned. Right, magic eyes. He sees the tiniest detail, and in every direction.
“Not completely certain of your gamble, your majesty?” Chester asked with a raised eyebrow.
“Not quite,” Leo said. “But enough of all of us posturing. What modifications to my proposal do you desire, Laurence?”
The man stroked his beard. “I would ask reparations.”
Leo almost laughed in his face. “Are you serious? You’re kingdom was about to go to war with mine, and the vast majority of the damage was done by Chester and Damien throwing magic around like a pair of lunatics.”
Chester frowned. “Because you attacked.”
Leo rolled his eyes. “It was like, four seconds ago that I laid out the reasoning for that—impending war.”
Laurence held his hands up. “This isn’t helping. Are you refusing to pay reparations, your majesty?”
Leo hesitated, leaning against the wall of the cell. “Is this a ‘pay reparations or die’ situation?”
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Chester shook his head. “No. I know how negotiating with you like that ends. I do think that you bear some responsibility for the situation, however. Also, it gives us face and a way to make things better with our citizens.”
Leo hesitated. “Why do I care about making things better with your citizens? Shouldn’t you do that?”
Laurence frowned in turn. “Have you considered how this looks from the perspective of the average citizen of Haviden? I don’t think this will work quite how you think it will.”
“What do you mean?” Leo asked, raising an eyebrow.”
Chester stepped in. “I mean, you’re right on your basic point—Damien was evil. But he was also popular, and only Felicty, myself, and Laurence really know you’re right. The king attacked dragons, a neighboring country that had harassed us back in the day, and a small, disliked minority. For the majority, he did fine. Maybe it would have gone terribly at some point. You’re right, I did see—and sense—Irkuhkt’s power. So yeah, most likely terrible things. But no one will believe me. Also, if they did, his kid would still have trouble taking over.”
Leo started to respond, but Chester raised his hand. “Also, Bartholomew Corion, the Duke of the Green Pale, is not a nice man. Older, more patient, and far more cunning and careful than Damien. So you’ll have time, at least. But I certainly can’t promise that I’ll be able to sway the young king or queen—or even the widow Regent Felicity—to not invade you, especially with you having burned the capital city and killed the king. You’re enemy number one, Leo. I doubt I can change that. It’ll take a generation, at least, for these wounds to fade in the public mind.”
Leo grimaced. He hadn’t, for some reason, thought that far. There was going to be a ton of bad blood between the kingdoms.
His resolve hardened, however. “I understand. It’s still better for me, and I think you, than letting a priest of Irkuhkt rule. Speaking of which, I would seek out a secret temple stone or something and try to convert it, before Irkuhkt uses it to convert someone else.”
But Leo wasn’t going to bring it up at this point. Damien is dead, and Chester is a half-decent guy, at least. And I need him to be happy regardless.
“I agree,” Laurence said, his voice slow and calm. “But can you not see that paying reparations will both make the citizens dislike you less, and also give the three people you hope to see run the country a stronger claim? Since we oversaw the failure to stop you and the death of the king, I doubt we stand high in most people’s perceptions at the moment.”
Leo hesitated again. Half of him agreed with them, but half of him hated the ridiculous idea of paying a people that had, through their king, started a fight with him and now regretted it.
Being a statesman is rough—If I was just a person I’d tell them to go pound sand, but this might have some value…
Leo tried to split the baby. “What about a very small but very long-term reparations fee? I mean, a few gold a year I can eat, and you can claim I’ll pay reparations for hundreds of years.”
Laurence smiled. “Not coincidentally, you can cancel it if we ever have a fight again?”
Leo gave an exaggerated shrug and smiled.
“It’ll be enough,” Laurence said. “We can work with that.”
“So what now?” Leo asked.
Chester pointed down the hall. “You get out of here. I reveal the happy truth that Damien had an heir, which should buy off some anger from the populace. Laurence and I try to keep a war from happening. We slowly rebuild here, I will slowly leak the darker truths about Damien, and we try to slowly mend our nations’ relationship. But for now, I think there’ll probably be trade embargoes. At the very least.”
Leo nodded, saddened but unsurprised.
And it could have gone far, far worse. This was as near to a happy ending as he was going to get from this situation.
“So… just walk out?”
Laurence shuddered. “By Kellen, no. If we’re seen releasing you from prison we’ll have riots. I’ll give you a cloak with a hood, and a bag with all your gear. You leave the city quietly in these morning hours before everyone gets up, and we never admit any of this to anyone. Instead, will send a delegation, make outrageous demands and accusations, you appoint someone to bark back, and then we’ll all agree to everything we just outlined, pretend we won when we talk to our own citizens, and again, the very key point, never admit this to anyone.”
Leo laughed. He had always secretly suspected in his own country that most formal events were just cover for backroom negotiations, although it gave him a different perspective to be the one carrying them out. He knew he was trying to do the best for his people, and wondered if his old representatives had been trying to do their best for him—or just to line their own pockets.
He’d never know.
Leo held his hand out. “Thank you. Genuinely.”
Laurence took it and shook it, then gave a half-bow.
Chester, by contrast, stared at it for a moment but finally reached out and grabbed it hard. He gave one single sharp shake—and a hefty squeeze—and released.
“Get out of here,” he said gruffly.
Leo did. He had things to do anyway.