Chapter 26

Aren shook Moren’s hand trying hard to assert himself with a crushing grip. Instead being met by a far stronger grip than his own. Moren let a smirk cross his face, clearly enjoying the wordless exchange while he made it clear that he knew his foe's tactics. “It is a pleasure to meet you, sir,” Moren began, “I am so glad to hear that you have returned to your father and that your kingdom is whole once more.”

Unshaken Aren replied, “The pleasure is all mine,” he said with a sly grin. “I’m sure that your people would love to see you among the living as well.” A twinge of sadness crossed Moren’s face, it didn’t linger, but it was enough for Aren to notice the brief change. After a moment the two men locked eyes as they shook hands, both trying to appear civil around their other guests, though it didn’t take much for Aren to figure out that this Moren appeared to be more akin to him than the rest of the royal guests. The unfortunate truth though was that Aren now understood Moren was working with Emeria for some reason. This fact only served to escalate the danger of his time in Lazzure. Aren’s thoughts immediately moved to his friends and he wished he could warn them.

Aren was jarred out of his thoughts when a hand touched his forearm. Ursania was gazing at him, her hand outstretched for a proper greeting of a kiss to the hand. “It’s a pleasure miss,” Aren said, feigning confidence as he leaned forward to kiss the back of her hand. It was cold to the touch, which Aren thought matched her look perfectly. Ursania was striking looking even Aren had to admit to himself, but in a rather viscous manner. Every bit of her was precisely arranged and sharp looking edged like a predator lurking and hunting for its prey. She wore a long red dress etched with small black accents. Her slender frame and pointed features reminded Aren of a viper and he assumed she was likely as good company as one too. He let his eyes linger for a moment attempting to look as though he was smitten with his guest though in reality he was attempting to determine where they might be hiding weapons on them.

Aren forced a smile as he bowed one last time to his two guests and began to turn away. As he did Moren put a hand on his shoulder and spoke one last time, though quieter than before. “I’d like to have a little chat with you after the banquet,” he said. There was a twitch in his body language as Aren felt the hand on his shoulder tense up and apply more pressure. With a grumble Aren merely brushed the hand off and continued on, focusing on getting away from the two guests.

After a moment once out of earshot of Ursania and Moren, Marchand scuttled up to Aren. “That was awful curt of you, sir,” he said. “Those are two of the most important diplomatic guests for this event. You would be wise to give them both their due time in the name of our kingdom.”

“Apologies,” Aren replied, trying to gather his wits. “I’ve never been that good with the diplomatic parts. It’s going to take me a while to scrape the barnacles and get back to ship shape.” He turned away from Marchand and mouthed “idiot” as he began to circle the room. He knew the expectation was that he would meet and greet all the important guests. After all, this party was supposed to be about him. He went from one introduction to the next, each one whittling a little more of what scarce little patience Aren was clinging onto. Even when he was very young and thought he had a good life, he hated this part of his life in Lazzure. He thought he used to be better at this, maybe he’d had more patience or more likely the guests had been slightly more forgiving and less interested in a child playing at being a royal. As an adult, he couldn’t help but feel like he was an item on an agenda. Each person in the room either wanted to befriend, manipulate, marry him, or kill him, and Aren for one couldn’t figure out which version of that was worse.

Eventually, he deemed that he had met everyone, or everyone had been so boring that they all blended together. When he finally reached his seat and sat down he let out a large sigh. He took a look across the large table. As usual, it was opulently decorated and at one end of the room. Proximity to this table was directly related to status, so those closest were the most annoyingly well-connected. In the very middle was his father’s seat. It was times like this, when he was at his most formal that the bad memories washed over Aren’s mind. As everyone circled the room and talked, not one of them said his father’s actual name, it was always the High Arbiter. Aren remembered when he was very young, he asked his mother about this, about why even he was supposed to only call his father this. It was one of the few times that his mother couldn’t manage to twist a story to cover. She’d given Aren the truth. She told him, “Your father is a very important man, but more than him, it is his position that is important. They call him that to honor the position, they say it’s because when someone takes the post of the High Arbiter they belong to the people of Lazzure, no longer to themselves. Honestly, though, it’s because it’s the only thing they’ve ever believed they would be. They never thought of themselves as whatever they were named. They are men and women who are so arrogant that they believe they were born destined to lead and rule and that it is their birthright. Something only the most foolish and blinded of people believe.” This answer was so forward that it had caught Aren off guard when he was young, but by the time he left, he understood how true it was.

After a moment lost in memories, Aren came back to his current situation, looking up and down as he attempted to figure out who he would be seated next to. He was hoping it would be one of the less talkative guests so at least he didn’t have to spend the whole night talking. Unfortunately, he saw no place cards or seating charts to help him. The only clear seating was his father’s and his own. He was as always, at the right side of his father.

The room came to a hush as his father entered, this was the clear sign for Aren to stand and begin to play his toughest role of the night, the loving and accepting son. As the many guests walked quietly to their seats Aren embraced his father in a hug, one more open gesture for the public eye. His father pulled him in close and talked in a low voice to him, “This is truly a special night my son. Our kingdom, mighty Lazzure, is whole once more. She is stronger thanks to you.” As he stepped back from the embrace the High Arbiter had a sly grin across his face which made Aren begin to worry. He knew that was an attempt to get in his head, which had succeeded. He wasn’t sure what his father had meant. The High Arbiter motioned for Aren to sit as the custom at such events was for everyone else to sit before the High Arbiter as he stood above all. Another pompous tradition Aren grumbled about. At least Aren thought this meant he would be fed soon. This was the one thing he did miss about large royal events, the food was always fantastic. Lazzure was lucky enough to bring spices and goods from all across the oceans, which meant they had the best cuisine anywhere in Surren.

As the last few people sat down Aren realized that he was seated next to Ursania and only one further seat down was Moren, not exactly what he was hoping for. Still standing the High Arbiter leaned toward Aren, “I expect that you have met our most wonderful guests?” Aren nodded hesitantly, unsure why his father was concerned about this. “Splendid, it’s thanks to them that we have such a jubilant festivity ahead of us, this is but the first of truly important days for Lazzure my son. Play your part well and we shall reap the bounty of the oceans.”

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Arren began to stammer out a question, but he was cut off. His father stood in front of the largest seat at the middle of the table and he taped his staff upon the tile. With a faint him the whole floor flickered like a wave and a gentle, warm sea breeze filled the air. Silence fell over the room as everyone turned to see the High Arbiter begin. “Welcome my people to this magnificent banquet. It is my pleasure to have you all here.” He paused for a moment for the crowd to clap. Aren kept a straight face as he watched his father, even though he had to admit if his father had one skill it was that he could captivate a whole room with his words. “We of Lazzure are glad to have all of these esteemed guests in our humble palace tonight. We of course have merchants from all of Surren and beyond!” A small cheer came from several tables in the room. “As well as so many other guests who are going to help us share in these momentous occasions. I thank you all for coming to help me welcome back my son and to share in the joy of his return!” A louder cheer came from all corners of the room at this.

“He has been gone for so long and worried us so much, but he has returned to claim his rightful place in the halls of Lazzure!” One last cheer was let out from everyone desperately looking for favor from the High Arbiter. Aren on the other hand began to feel a cold sweat forming. His father was building up to something. “This grand occasion is a sign of good things to come for our kingdom, not just for my family, but for all of Lazzure. Truly though it is not just for Lazzure, but Sacrotia as well, for this is how we will create a lasting union between our two great kingdoms!” This led to the loudest cheer of all. Aren’s heart dropped and he felt like he was going to vomit. He looked up at his father, whose gaze was waiting. A wicked grin crossed his lips, knowing that Aren had figured out the game being played. This whole time the High Arbiter had been at least three moves ahead, setting his trap. Clearly, Aren had stumbled into Lazzure at the wrong time, or had he been led here in the first place?

“It’s just a coincidence,” Aren murmured to himself, though he knew he was wrong.

When the last of the cheers died down the High Arbiter resumed, clearly enjoying himself. “With the aid of the Sacrotian queen, Emeria herself, we will take what rightfully belongs to Lazzure. We will take our place at the forefront of all trade in Surren, taking the pirate port of Aroster back and imposing proper law across all ports!” The crowd went wild at this. This had been the dream of every High Arbiter, to take Aroster and control all the ports. With control of the Aroster port and its black market, all the wealth in the land would go through Lazzure. None had been able to take it as it would have stretched Lazzure too thin, but with Sacrotia’s growing might, this wasn’t just a dream.

The High Arbiter waved his hands and the crowd hushed, “But, such a promise is not enough. We know that a bond in words alone is not enough, something must be given and something must be taken as is the way the exchange goes. All bonds, all exchanges, must be made of equal value, signed, agreed, and balanced by the scales of Lazzure!” The High Arbiter taped his staff once more and a golden light flickered across the tiled floor. “Nothing is ever given freely my friends, so it is with a truly happy heart that I am giving that which is most valuable to me, my own flesh and blood to this bond. I give my son to bond the kingdoms of Lazzure and Sacrotia together so that we may have a union of our people and for the people to begin a new far more prosperous age.”

By now Aren knew exactly what was happening, this was no different from the games he’d played with his father when he was a child. For a brief moment, he’d think he saw an opening only to find that he’d already lost the game and just hadn’t realized it. Next to Aren Ursania stood as the High Arbiter motioned for her. “My son is to marry this fine woman, Ursania, the economist of allSacrotia to bind our two nations, our two kingdoms together in beautiful financial and political matrimony! The ceremony shall occur tomorrow, and all of Lazzure is invited. I declare a holiday throughout the land to help me celebrate this joyous occasion!” Aren stood, knowing his part, though he wasn’t sure if he would pass out or try to take a swing at his father. The crowd cheered and roared, the clapping echoed throughout the palace.

The High Arbiter put his arm around his son and leaned in for a public embrace, “Your move son, though for the crowd’s sake, you should give her a kiss.” A horrid grin crossed the High Arbiter’s face as he looked back to the crowd. Aren tried to think, but it sunk in quickly that he didn’t have any plays at that moment, so he played the part. He knew if he dropped the charade, the plan would have no chance of succeeding. Even though his father clearly knew that they were both playing against each other, it still benefited Aren to be patient and wait for an opportunity. So he turned to his bride-to-be, leaned in, and gave her a nice slow kiss, trying to play to the crowd. Her kiss was every bit as cold as her hand had been and Aren could feel a cold shiver go down his spine. The crowd didn’t catch on and cheered with approval.

Booming above the crowd the High Arbiter echoed, “Now, we feast!.” The crowd continued to cheer for several more minutes as waiters began to pour out from all the adjacent hallways with massive plates of food. The smells and sights of delicacies from all around began to fill the hall and attention began to divide to what people were going to eat and judging people accordingly. Aren slunk down into his seat, he’d lost this round. He grabbed the first drink from a try passing by and began to try and wash the taste of Ursania’s kiss from his mouth. He would drink everything that passed him by if he had to.

After a few minutes and a few bites of food, which Aren could at least admit was fantastic, the High Arbiter leaned over just close enough and said one simple sentence. “Your move son,” was all he needed to say. This was the same way he had taunted Aren every time was about to beat him in a game. He didn’t even turn to look at his son, which Aren was happy about because that likely would have pushed him over the edge. Clearly, that’s how the High Arbiter saw this, he was simply playing another game against his child, one he would inevitably win. Aren couldn’t help but think of all the stories he’d heard of princes and princesses being married off against their wills. When he was young he’d thought them to be funny old wive’s tales. Now he didn’t find them so funny.

Unfortunately, the way this played out didn’t surprise him. He may not have figured out the specifics, but he did know his father would be playing a game in some way. He may have hated his father, but even he had to admit that he was smart and clever above all. The High Arbiter hadn’t lasted at his position for so long without having a knack for outmaneuvering any other players. The ruse at the heart of Kreavos’ plan, sending Aren back to his father, had been figured out. That said, there wasn’t any particular reason for the High Arbiter to know what Aren and the others were after, so he still had some unpredictability.

Aren ate, trying to console himself as he thought. There had to be some way for him to contact Kreavos, Sani, and Vella, but how? He needed a way to turn the tables on his father, which was no small task. Aren knew he would be watched at every turn, that much was clear. He’d slipped past his father’s watchful eyes when he was younger, but he doubted it would be so simple now. Not to mention some of the old ways included passages that he would not have a hope of fitting into now.

Occasionally during the feast the merchants and other guests would come up to Aren and Ursania and congratulate them. It was a completely unnerving and awkward experience for Aren, though Ursania seemed unfazed. Even worse the partygoers occasionally demanded that they kiss, which only turned to further sour the feast for Aren. As timepassedAren grew more exhausted but more focused. He needed to figure out how to communicate with his friends and what his next play would be. More importantly, he had to move quickly, after all, the next day was his wedding day.