Erilaz marched along the castle corridors like a battering ram. Water dripped down his clothes and he left wet spots with every step. Soaked strands of his hair stuck to his face and his ponytail dangled behind him like a worn-out mop. The castle visitors and residents usually greeted him kindly but this time they only nodded and got out of his way. Everyone noticed his frustration.

He approached the Ivendir's chamber and tapped the display board next to the door as if he wanted to stab it to death with his finger. He stood there for a few seconds, clenching his fists.

The door opened.

"Erilaz?" Ivendir raised his eyebrow, standing in the doorway.

Erilaz encroached inside. He waited for the door to slide shut and said, "I killed an innocent person." He pointed at Ivendir. "Because of you, Iv..." He exhaled deeply, calming his voice down. "Your Highness." He spread his arms. "I wasn't prepared for this action..." He clenched his fists again and added, "I'm Vardir, not a peacekeeper."

He tamed his nerves with a few slow breaths. Relaxing his hand, he asked in stride, "What was that about?"

"I couldn't prepare myself either," explained Ivendir in a gentle voice. "The call was sudden and the crowd was angry."

Erilaz raised his ears and tilted his head slightly. "Why me? Didn't you have enough forces responsible for it?"

"You're Vardir. Your voice is important."

Erilaz narrowed his eyes with resignation. A strand of wet hair dangled in front of his face. "Is it still that important after killing that man?" He stood face to face with Ivendir, towering over the king. "I should know some background of it. What are their requests? Who were they talking with? Anything."

"Didn't the militia commander tell you?" interrupted Ivendir.

"He tried," began Erilaz, wringing his hair, "but you rushed him like he was too stupid to tell me that personally." Drops of water from his hair dripped on the floor.

"He's not unerring," the king cut off. He raised his finger half-heartedly. "I decided that this action needs to be quick."

Erilaz shook his head with a disappointed expression. "He's the militia commander."

"And I am the king."

Erilaz sighed. He had no energy to argue, and he didn't want to add fuel to the fire but according to him, Ivendir's decision wasn't exactly correct. In the end, getting conflicted with the new king wouldn't help anyone so he decided to get a grip and stay silent.

Ivendir lowered his head and closed his eyes. He brushed his fingers through his hair. "I'm sorry for that," he breathed.

Erilaz hesitantly raised the corners of his mouth.

"No, really." Ivendir reached his hand towards Erilaz. "I rushed this action a bit too much." He put his hands up in a defensive gesture. "Next time I will keep you away from the centre of events. You will be my... symbol of authority."

Vardir lowered his eyebrow questioningly.

Ivendir spread his arms. "Just stand still and look down at them."

"And how about that man I killed?" asked Erilaz, glancing at the floor. "And the other victims?"

"I plan to help their families, pay compensation..." Ivendir narrowed his eyes. "But we can't just say sorry."

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He didn't have time to rethink the long term consequences. Compensation won't silence the people forever. Some of them may start dwelling on the subject, and severe accusation won't help him rule Helvetto in peace. He had had to stop the bloodshed before it gathered steam. He wanted to make Helvetto prosper, not suffer.

He continued in a quieter voice, propping his chin in reflection, "We have to make it look like that was a necessary evil."

Erilaz bit his lower lip in confusion and nodded with hesitation.

Ivendir muttered, looking down, "They attacked us... we accidentally killed some of them... and then they will find something else to talk about."

Erilaz's expression became more gloomy. He averted his gaze. "And... that's all?" he asked. Realising that getting angry won't help him solve the problem, he relaxed his fingers. "But... yeah. We can't risk a world-wide riot."

...Since I'm on thin ice too, he added in his mind.

"That would ruin the reputation of us both." He shrugged and shook his head.

Ivendir took a step towards Erilaz and raised a corner of his mouth. "I'm glad we understand each other." The king's eyes beamed with mildness and understanding. "The procedure allows shooting if the enemy has a weapon." He reached his hand towards Erilaz. "Even if the weapon is fake but it looks realistic."

He tried to put his hand on Erilaz's shoulder but Vardir leant sideways, dodging his touch.

Erilaz gently lowered his eyebrows. "Should that just silence my remorse?"

Ivendir swung his hand. "It's better to live with regret than... not to live at all."

Another thunder blasted outside. Ivendir drooped his shoulders and sighed. He forgave Erilaz this temperamental behaviour. After all, Vardir lost his father. He had a right to throw a tantrum.

"I miss him too," said Ivendir, avoiding looking into Erilaz's eyes, "but I can't express my emotions freely. I'm a public figure."

Erilaz tightened his lips. He and Ivendir have never been best friends. Their relationship was cold but also civil and peaceful. He didn't want to hold a grudge against Ivendir, but it was too early to forgive and forget such a stupid order. Erilaz's trust was strained, and it needed time to regenerate and recover.

"That's all," said Ivendir.

"Sure," responded Erilaz and headed towards the door.

Ivendir watched how the door slid shut behind Erilaz. He exhaled with effort and turned around. He envied Erilaz's freedom. As the new king, he had to present himself as a strong, unbreakable leader but the inner pain manifested itself secretly. Sudden surges of fear, dry throat and searing in the stomach reminded him of this tragedy all the time.

I guess I can be honest with him. He will understand, thought Ivendir.

Erilaz entered the square with a garden. The raindrops still struck the grass and leaves but lightning flashed far away with faint light. Erilaz walked under the canopy at a brisk pace like a beast of prey creeping towards its next dinner. He didn't feel victorious at all. He gazed vacantly at the wooden floor below, focusing his hearing on the swoosh of the rain. At least the pleasant smell of the wet ground soothed his rough emotions.

Hefri lounged around on the tree root on the opposite side of the square. Despite Erilaz's quiet steps and the rustle of leaves, she heard him and turned her head. She rose to a sitting position and looked at him feistily.

She asked, "Did you give him an earful?"

Erilaz pretended to ignore that and continued to sneak behind the pillars.

Hefri dragged herself on the ground and crossed her arms. "Erilaz?" she called louder.

"What?" he responded without letting the floor out of his sight. After a moment he rapidly raised his head and looked at her. "Oh, yeah, I did."

He sighed and lowered his eyes again. Talking with anyone was the last thing he needed. The events from the past week drained his energy. Even though he received the best training on Helvetto and he took supplements to toughen his body, his mind demanded at least a few short hours of rest.

"Remember when we were young, and I wanted to be a leader who rules with negotiation, not terror?" he said carelessly as if he were talking to nobody.

Hefri tilted her head. "What do you mean?"

He turned his head towards her. "Exactly what you heard."

Feeble beams of the sun pierced through a little hole in the dark clouds and the raindrops became slimmer. Dim, golden light shrouded half of Erilaz's face and his soaked hair glittered.

"I don't want to rule with terror," he added. "Sorry. I'm busy. And tired." He yawned, covering his mouth with a trembling hand and headed towards the door on the opposite side.

"Sure," said Hefri and smiled without even a flicker of joy.

She did her best not to be angry at him but his grief was giving everyone a hard time. Trying to understand her friend, she thought about her parents. She left them when she was six because she qualified for the first preliminaries in the Royal Academy. The best students got high stipends, and Hefri's family was desperate for money. After an accident, her father couldn't earn a living and this responsibility rested with her. She had to hunt in the northern forests, and she enjoyed it but her father's health always worried her.

He really needs to get it together. Quickly, she thought. Their duties didn't care about feelings, they had to be fulfilled no matter what and she understood that.