Gala
Gala, Nero, and Maximus all sat in the royal carriage back to Gatherstorm. They were only two days out of Staff Harbor, and they tried to make conversation, but it went nowhere, which left the carriage silent. During the second night, they slept in the carriage, but around three in the morning Maximus stopped it and went to pee in a field.
When he came back, Gala woke up and noticed that Nero was still sound asleep. Maybe now would be the time to talk to Maximus about preventing war. “Dad?” Gala asked.“Yes?” Maximus said, snapping his tired eyes to Gala.
“I know that you don’t probably want to talk about this, but I wanted a moment in private before it was too late,” Gala said.
Maximus groaned. “Now?” he asked. “Let me go to sleep. If you are worried about anything, we’ll talk about it in the morning.”
“No, now,” Gala responded, trying to sound as respectful as possible. “Both of us probably won’t be able to fall asleep for at least another twenty minutes. So, to make the most of it, I want to talk to you while I have the chance. Alone.”
"Alright, fine,” said Maximus. “What do you suggest? They killed one of the griffins, but more importantly, the one that pledged its allegiance to us.” He leaned forward. “Someone insulted us. We can’t let that go unpunished,” said Maximus with stern eyes as he locked eyes with Gala.
“We don’t even know if we have to go to war.” Gala rebutted. “This shouldn’t be just an excuse to go after reunification. Imagine the consequences, if you blame the Expert’s Commonwealth, we also go to war with—”
Maximus interrupted. “Don’t act like I am not an academic either. I don’t need to lecture me about the geopolitics of the continent. I didn’t mobilize one and a half million men just to bow down to an army of half a million. The Expert’s Commonwealth—”
“Why would an army a third the size of ours provoke us like this?” Gala demanded. She kept her eyes locked with her fathers. Gala tried to stare harder like she was trying to cast a bigger shadow than her father. A lone feather trying to change the direction of a bird.
“Some men just don’t know what they are doing. They are irrational.”
Gala considered turning the statement back on her father. She opened her lips to say it but pulled back out of fear that the conversation would turn ugly. “You know, you don’t have to drag down our kingdom because of the irrational actions of others. Strength comes from humility too.” Gala paused for a moment. “I have a different solution.”
“We wouldn’t be having this conversation if you didn’t,” Maximus said.
Gala expected this phrase to be spoken with some high spirit, like someone leading up to a joke, but his demeanor didn’t change, and his eyes were still locked onto Gala’s.
She continued. “Set up a conference with the other leaders. Invite them to find out who did it, and demand concessions. Something, but if they still don’t admit it and you are sure, and you know you're sure, then we can go to war. If we don’t know, we would be wasting good men of this country on a war against the wrong enemy.”
“I know who it is,” Maximus assured Gala.
“What if we are being deceived?” Gala questioned.
“If we are being deceived then I will know.”
“How?”
“Because I am not a fool who makes decisions based on opportunities I think may be opportunistic. I imagine the scenario and plan accordingly before it ever happens.” He said it with such confidence that Gala wanted to shut it down again but didn’t know how to respond. The conversation was over, and Gala sunk into her chair. Only a person who didn’t know Maximus would continue and potentially rile him up. She closed her eyes and tried to fall asleep. There were no more conversations about the potential war for the rest of the trip.
#
They arrived in Gatherstorm a couple of weeks later. Nero’s mother, Claudia, greeted them as they reached the palace gates. Gala looked at the royal guards that surrounded the carriage. It was nearly double the number of troops as usual, but Gala doubted their effectiveness. “They” took down a griffin. What possibly could more guards do?
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She looked over at Nero and found him looking up at the palace walls, towers, and windows. His eyes were almost never like this. During everyday life, he would dart his eyes from object to object; when talking to anyone besides Gala, he would look at the ground or to the side of the person; but when in front of the capital, his eyes were locked on the only beautiful thing in the country.
Claudia and Maximus bear-hugged each other when he got out of the carriage, while Gala and Nero awkwardly waited until they let go. They gave each other a little glance of acknowledgment.
After the king and queen stopped embracing and loving each other, Claudia moved on to her children. She first hugged Nero and then Gala. She did all the pleasantries and told them how much she missed them, but after her face swapped to concern. She turned toward Maximus and asked where Romulus was. Maximus informed her that he was still near Staff Harbor dealing with a prisoner and organizing military regiments.
Claudia sighed. Gala watched as the queen put on a happy face and told them to go to their rooms to get everything organized.
A couple hours later, Gala was in one of the many dining halls eating her dinner. She scarfed chicken and bread down her throat while drinking more water than some peasants drank in a week. Anytime a part of the chicken or bread was cold she immediately shoved more food into her mouth to bring back some heat which nearly made her choke a couple of times. Also, the number of candles in the dining hall made Gala scoff. There was no need for this many candles—and along with the exuberant number of paintings—would give someone with claustrophobia a small panic attack.
A door opened at the far end and Gala tried to see who it was. After swinging her head side to side trying to look passed the candles, she found Claudia walking to her. Gala took another bite of her chicken and asked how Claudia was doing. Claudia took the seat across from her and said she was fine. There was a moment of silence before Gala asked what she was doing here.
“What are you doing here?” asked Gala.
“Can’t I talk to my stepdaughter? Is that a problem?” Claudia asked, sounding offended.
“Well, you didn’t say anything. Besides, what do you want to talk about?” Gala asked trying to sound more upbeat. “How the funeral was? Let me answer that for you. It was terrible, alright.” She laughed. “This country is going to be at war with either two or three countries and it feels like Dad has no idea what he is doing.”
“He knows what he is doing. He’s the king.” Claudia said. “Besides, you shouldn’t concern yourself with things you don’t have much influence on. Focus on things you have power over. Example A: me. I was in charge while you were away, and when I heard of the news, I made all the preparations to make sure I and this family were okay. If you focus on what other people are doing, you are going to be worse off and before you know it, someone is going to chop your head off.”
“I know, but what’s the point? Isn’t caring about what others do and how I get more say in the kingdom. Plus, I don’t want the people to suffer because I couldn’t convince the king to calm down. If the royal family doesn’t care about the people, who will?” Gala inquired.
“The earls of course.”
“Then why are we in charge?” Gala asked, setting down her fork and knife for a brief moment.
Claudia tried to come up with an answer, but the brief moment of silence before she began confirmed Gala’s assumption. There was no one in the family who truly cared about the people. Anytime any action was taken that benefited the people, it was only done in the first place for selfish reasons. Claudia said they were in charge because they deserved it by right. It is their family’s right to sit on the throne and lead the people. Gala nodded to her response. She played along with the notion and could only long for the day that the leaders of Qar cared for the people.
Gala finished her meal and wondered about the man who was currently in line for the throne after Maximus. “You think Romulus is going to be a good king?” Gala asked.
“Gala!” Claudia gasped. “You shouldn’t even be thinking about that already.”
“I know that he is your husband and you two love each other, but he is going to die. A sixty-year-old king is like the moment before a public execution in the town square. Everybody waits and doesn’t dare move and look away. Romulus is the rightful heir, but sometimes I wonder about if he is going to be competent.”
Claudia reluctantly moved past Gala’s morbid thoughts and answered her question. “No, he doesn’t know what he is doing. He’s cocky, he’s not diplomatic, but at least he’s a military man. No one challenges a king with a military at his back. Or at least I hope he has the military with him. I wouldn’t know such things, and even though he wouldn’t be good, I think he would have enough skilled people at his side that it would protect the kingdom.” Claudia stopped. She smiled at Gala. “And I got someone in mind who would fit that role perfectly.”
Gala smirked but was a little embarrassed by the motherly love. “Thanks, Claudia, it means a lot,” Gala said out of respect.
“Again, you are more than welcome to call me mom,” Claudia assured her.
Gala shook her head. They’ve had this conversation before but with the same result. Gala refusing to call the woman who took care of her her entire life “mom”.
There was silence as both sat there, not knowing what to say. Claudia got up from her seat. “I should let you find a maid to handle your dirty dishes. I need to write Romulus,” she said as she pushed in her chair and walked away.