“Heavy, is the head that wears the crown.”
Never did King Alcreus, Ninth of his name, Lord of the Esthelt Kingdom, felt it more than in this moment, staring at the order awaiting His royal seal. He wanted to scream. To rage against the unfairness of it all. He could feel the bitterness rising inside of him, waiting to be unleashed in a torrent of expletives and curses.
Instead, he calmly grabbed the block of wax, cutting a slice and bringing it to the open flame of his candle, his face impassive.
He kept his eyes firmly on the slowly softening substance, not thinking of his little girl. Not of the way she’s been so fascinated by the flames, and of the way she’d spend hours, asking all manners of question to her tutor. His mouth quirked up as he remembered her awe, as the 4 years old lass witnessed him “transforming” the chunk of wax into a red, bubbling liquid.
Bringing the pot over his letter, he poured the liquefied substance in a perfect circle, slightly bigger than an inch. She never did manage to master this part of the process…
His mouth back to a firm line, The King grabbed the Royal Seal, symbol of His authority. It was the work of a few seconds of pressure before he could lift it up and away, storing it back into its ivory chest.
The deed was done. His little wildfire was…
“The orders have been signed. The Realm is now at war.”
There was but a smattering of acknowledgement. They all knew that it was a polite facade ; the war declaration would take place on the morrow, in the throne room, with all of the most powerful vassals present to witness it and rally their banners as quickly as possible.
This opportunity had only a short window of time, after all. And it wasn’t one that would present itself ever again.
Betraying an oath of fosterage wasn’t an act done lightly, after all. And even less forgotten.
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“Lord Welfred, how fares the boy?”
“He is traveling as foreplanned, escorted by the royal knights of Alcor. Our scouts report he will reach the border in as little as a month, and should enter Elysee for the royal funeral three weeks after.”
“And what of our most puissant vassals?”
“They have done their preparations. The musterage should take but a dozen days, your Majesty.”
“Then all our preparations have been done. The council is thereby dismissed. We meet on the morrow, my lords.”
Raising up at once, they all exited the room, their footsteps echoing behind them. With a gesture, the guards exited the room too, closing the door shut.
Alcreus waited a few moments more.
“Sir Tablak, are you ready to do yet another task for your king?”
Stepping out from the shadows, as though materializing from it, the tall, lanky form of the spy master showed itself to its king.
“Methink the king has no need of me. The man, though…”
Letting his kingly facade fall slightly, Alcreus snorted lightly.
“I can never hide those matters from you, old friend. There are… two letters I'd need you to send. I wager I have no need to explain more?”
Loichi Tablak nodded his ascent, though Alcreus had not waited for it, already rummaging through his desks for spare papers and quickly writing down his instructions. He looked perfectly unruffled.
“I wonder when the lad managed to become part of your circle. Why, but a few years back, you swore you’d only treat him as courtesy required.”
“Ah, if I could but point to a moment.” Alcreus pondered, his hands never stopping in their tasks. “Was it when he first arrived in this castle, a young lad not even a decade old, stumbling over his oath? Or when he arrived, triumphant, into the solar, humbly asking to squire under me, still clutching the letter from his lord father?”
Yet, of course, they both knew it wasn”t so. Unbidden, he remembered those fateful words that thawed his old, scarred heart. “Thank you, my lord. You’ve welcomed me as a son, and I… wish I could call you father.”
Handing the letters to his most faithful friend, Alcreus allowed himself a moment of weakness more.
“They’ll be safe?”
Taking hold of the letters and storing them in his travel cloak, Tablak replied simply before vanishing again.
“They will be.”