Gala

After considering all the options, only one course of action was agreed upon. 50,000 men would stay in Gatherstorm while General Smith would park his army outside of the city, waiting for Romulus and Kosta to take the bait and the end war.

After the surrender of nearly all the remaining earls loyal to Gala, Gatherstorm was cut off from all sources of food. Their army wasn’t going to last for long, and not able or willing to endure a siege of the capital, General Smith and Gala decided that they had one opportunity to win this war.

Days passed, and nothing happened. Neither Kosta nor Romulus engaged with General Smith, and according to the general, hadn’t even been seen in the areas around Gatherstorm. Now, in the middle of the day, Gala sat with Nero in the throne room. Neither of them sat on the thrones but rather sat in the gallery seats. The thrones didn’t lend themselves well to conversations. “You know,” Gala said as he took the Griffin Crown off her head. “I wonder how long it took Dad to absorb it,” Nero asked her to clarify. “To sit on the throne, and it snaps into your head that you are the monarch. You are the leader, and you don’t have to answer to anybody.”

“Well, has that happened to you yet?” asked Nero. He was hunched over and seemed like he wanted to puke. He was like this yesterday too, and Gala asked if he was okay. Nero nodded, only saying it was from the anxiety of waiting for Romulus to make a move. “Have you realized that you have to answer to anybody?”

“Oh, I do. I have to answer to the people. Technically, not now, but when I change everything.” No one spoke for a little until Gala asked the same question but about Nero’s exile.

“You mean when I realized that I could potentially not return home for years?” Nero asked. “When Lucius handed me a jar of greenwood poison. That’s when I realized that life wasn’t going to go as smoothly as I thought.” Nero opened his mouth, but no words came out. It seemed like he wanted to say something but decided against it at the last moment.

However, Gala forced Nero to speak his mind. “Don’t be afraid,” she said. I’m not going to drag you into a river or anything.”

It convinced Nero, and she turned to look Gala in the eyes. “Please be honest with me. Do you really think that this is going to last much longer? We’re surrounded,” Nero pleaded. “We have more men, but our soldiers will starve if we don’t destroy their army soon. We have 500,000 men in a city with millions of people and expect them to feed themselves on last year's harvest for who knows how long.”

Gala reassured her brother. “I trust good things eventually come, and after a monarchy existing in every Era of history, nothing like this has been attempted. We will free the people.”

Nero nodded, and the two fell silent again. Though Gala wanted her statement to be true, she couldn’t help but think that there was a real opportunity and that it would all be for nothing. Earl Regent of Wailing Wind, the People’s Lord, Lia’s rebellion and following appointments of new earls, the death of two griffins, and now a civil war that seemed to reach its culmination. She had shown all her cards, but now all she could be waiting for.

Nero started to give out a soft chuckle. “What?” Gala asked.

“I was just thinking. Remember that guy in Staff Harbor who put a knife to my throat?” Nero slowly nodded and clenched his jaw. “It could have ended for the both of us right there. Thousands of lives would have been spared, Dad could have caved under the pressure, or the faith in the royal family could have collapsed, and the People’s Lord would have taken over. It of course wouldn’t be how it should have gone, but it sure is better than what is happening now.”

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“You can’t predict the future,” Gala said. “The only way to do it is the right way. Dad named me his heir, and I am following the law, even though I want to abolish many of their laws. Who knows what would have happened if the People’s Lord took over? Maybe a deadlier civil war could have occurred from rebellious earls.”

“But out of all the scenarios, I’m happy you chose the ones where you had a good enough relationship with your father to make him not marry you off to the first prince he saw.”

“A prince would never accept a bastard,” Gala responded. “Or former bastard.”

Once again, the two fell silent. Enjoying the quietness that had been empty from their lives for many years. Every day seemed to bring a new challenge and an urge to solve it. That’s what happened in all of those books that were stashed in Nero’s library. The good guys always came out on top, and even at their lowest moments, held out hope that their vision of the world would come out on top. However, all of the hopes and dreams of democracy fell apart when they heard the sound of a sledgehammer dragging across the floor.

Gala shot up as scraping echoed through the palace halls. Nero fell frozen and stared at the ground. Gala looked back at Nero and sighed as she put on the Griffin Crown. Whoever it was, they certainly weren't looking for a peaceful day.

The sound got louder and louder until the outlines of Romulus, Kosta, and Smith appeared before the doors of the throne room. Nero stood and faced the three men, and for a while, they simply looked at each other. Romulus’s hammer rested on the floor as Gala walked backward toward the throne before Nero began to follow her. Though before Nero could leave the gallery, Romulus picked up the sledgehammer and pointed it at Nero. He smiled and said: “God no, not right now. I’ll deal with you later.”

The three men slowly approached Gala and stopped before the stairs that led up to the thrones. “How does it feel?” asked Romulus. “This is the last time in your life you held power. And for what? To free the slaves? Other stuff that you’ve hidden from us?” Romulus's voice was spiteful as his eyes gazed from side to side as if he relived his experiences on the throne.

“I represented the side of the righteous,” responded Gala, resigned. “But I see that even the righteous fall.” She looked at Smith. “I thought you were loyal.”

“I only did it because it saved thousands if not millions of lives,” Smith answered. His voice was plain, unauthentic, and generic. Gala looked at everyone else’s reaction. Romulus seemed unsurprised, Kosta annoyed, and Nero removed from it all as if their mother had died again.

“You know, Gala is right,” responded Romulus. “You’re a rat not to be trusted.” And before anyone could say anything else, Romulus lifted his hammer and swung at Smith’s head. Everyone fell silent as Smith’s head hit the floor and bits of skull flew around the room. Blood gushed, and his eyes were nowhere to be seen. Romulus took a deep breath before becoming the first to speak. “If he is willing to betray you, no doubt he’ll turn my back on me at some point. Kosta, when we are done here, I want you to show the troops to demonstrate what happens if they consider betraying me. They shouldn’t have the luxury of thinking they can just come back and be accepted with open arms.” Kosta nodded with glee.

Romulus dropped his hammer and brought his attention back to Gala. “So then, your hands, please.” Gala remained motionless on the throne and shook her head. “Come on, Gala,” said Romulus. “It’s over. You have no one left except Nero, but I’ll deal with him soon enough.”

Gala pondered for a second before looking Romulus straight in the eyes. “If you can’t take the crown, maybe you shouldn’t have it.”

“So be it,” Romulus said as he detached a pair of shackles from his beltline and ascended the steps to be king. Kosta turned around and pulled out shackles of his own to arrest Nero. Gala watched as his brother calmly put forward his hands to be restrained.

Romulus grabbed Gala’s hands and restrained them before pulling her off the throne and taking the crown. He looked at it for a second, admiring what he had been after this entire time. His eyes lit up like a little boy on his birthday. He slowly placed it on his head, closing his eyes to savor the moment before it soundly fit the shape of his skull.

He brought his attention back to Gala and uttered his first command as undisputed King of the Qar. “Gala Mane, by order of the king, you are to be found guilty of treason. The summary judgment is lateral hanging.