RE: Monarch

“The trials of Infaris are known for this. Pulling in individuals from different points in history, allowing them to collide. It’s the only thing that makes sense.” The infernal seemed irritable at himself for not realizing it sooner. “The amount of outside help you seem to have. A bound demon, the dantalion flame—yes, I recognized the magic you imbued into that stone—the knowledge of our culture and my father.”

“Is it really so inconceivable that I know him?” I asked.

“You’re deflecting attention away from everything else, as if that is the most believable part, when it is not.” Xarmos shook his head sadly. “When my father would have you killed as a matter of course.”

I blinked. My first instinct was to defend Ralakos. I thought about the kind man who had pontificated on the nature of judgement. A man who invited me into his home and defended me at the trial. Someone who had put countless resources and, eventually, his very life on the line to defend me. That was a far cry from the Ralakos I knew.

Xarmos softened. “He is a good father. He asks for my opinion, you know. That is what Infaris has been trying to show me. Moments where I could have stayed his hand. Moments where, instead, I did nothing because I feared he might find me a coward, unwilling to do what was necessary.”

I chuckled. “I… understand. More than you know. At least Ralakos values your words.”

For the first time in a while, I thought of King Gil. He had been ever-present in my mind during the enclave loop, and never far from my mind even before that. I constantly feared the day he would descend upon me, and scatter my plans to ashes.

“He is not pleased with you? You are advanced for a human, and capable as an ally. You did not abandon me when things became difficult. Surely, these qualities are as valued in your culture as they are in mine.”

I considered his words, strangely appreciative of the perspective. “He is a cruel, calculated man. One who cares only for power and control. But in truth, I have no idea what he would think of me now. I am different from how I was.”

“Yes.”

The sudden hand on my shoulder jarred me from my thoughts. Xarmos’s expression was solemn. “It would be blasphemous if I did not pass down the lesson I was being taught. I see the darkness in your eyes, friend Cairn. Do not lose hope. If you are indeed different from who you were before, perhaps he might see you in a new light.”

He had no way of knowing that. And from what Xarmos had previously said, he was likely projecting his hopes and experiences onto me. Still, his kindness reached me.

“Perhaps,” I finally hedged, trying to move the conversation in a more comfortable direction. “But I’m surprised you’re not asking me more questions. About the time I hail from.”

About your future.

Xarmos shook his head and smiled. “If the stories are to be believed, knowing what the future might hold only makes me likely to change it. And the enclave must be in a better place than it is now, if we are openly admitting humans into the sanctum.”

I wanted to warn him. Say something, anything. But the more I thought about it, the more unwise it seemed. I knew all too well that the past could be changed, and how muddy a situation could get as a result. There were no rules for this kind of thing, no written guidelines. And it’s not as if I knew the specifics of how or when Xarmos died.

The darker side of my mind whispered that saving him might be the worst course of action. His death almost undoubtedly played a part in Ralakos’s transformation from warrior to respectable diplomat and councillor. And if the ambush on the enclave never happened, if the dimension gate was never sealed—if I warned them, relations would likely be even worse, and any leverage I had of bringing the infernals into the fold would crumble like ash in a winterscrest wind.

Still, Xarmos peered at me, clearly waiting for a reaction. Looking for any hint that his words rang true. That things were better.

I finally gave him a slow nod.

The resulting grin spanned his entire face, his fangs glinting in the soft ambient light. He clapped his hands. “Very well. Do not tell me anything, my friend Cairn. I wish to see it for myself.”

A shard of guilt tore through me. I nearly broke my silence, but Xarmos interrupted. “Now, for the unpleasant part.” He stared at the fountain in the center in determination. “Who goes first?”

“I will,” I said. The idea of seeing Lillian again unsettled me on a fundamental level, but considering the circumstances, it was the least I could do.

/////

I hummed a bar from the Strummers Ballad and took the stairs two at a time, a decadent breakfast of eggs and sausage in hand. The lodgings were on the outskirts of Dahlreed—a mid-sized city, most notable for its hard fought stranglehold on Tornwick lumber imports. I’d been invited to stay in the Governor’s mansion, as the official purpose of this trip was to renegotiate an existing trade agreement. That itself would not be difficult, which was why King Gil allowed me to take a hand in it. My purpose here was merely one of posturing, reminding the local trade who exactly it paid its taxes to.

The unofficial purpose was far more interesting. There was a ball in the evening, overrun with self-important lords and their simpering companions, both local and drawn from neighboring towns. It was an excellent facsimile of a social event in Whitefall, only with lower stakes and less dangerous players.

All in all, a perfect setting for Lillian’s societal debut.

I’d woken up early, alone in bed, the fading cloying of last night’s wine fogging my subconscious, and stumbled into the study, finding Lillian leafing through the diplomacy shorthand document Thaddeus had prepared for me beforehand. A well of pride rose in my chest.

Well. If she was going to be that dedicated, the least I could do was fetch her breakfast.

I entered with exaggerated swagger. Lillian was still reading. For a moment, she was serene, dark hair delightfully unkempt, a wild cascade of hair glowing almost blonde in the light of the rising sun.

Her nose twitched.

I watched, with no small amusement, as her head slowly turned, her dark eyes glued to the plates, leering at their contents with such lust it would make a lesser man jealous.

“You…” she said slowly, “Are divine.”

“Glad you finally caught on.” I placed the plate and utensils before her with the flair of a palace servant. But the breakfast never stood a chance. There was a blur of motion as the eggs were systematically eradicated and the sausage dismantled. My amusement dimmed into concern. There was only one reason she was ever this hungry. I sat on the desk next to her, took her plate, and placed mine down in its place.

Lillian stared at it. The dark circles around her eyes were all too obvious to me now.

“So. No sleep last night,” I observed.

“How could I? My heart was still racing.” Lillian winked. It nearly threw me off-topic, filling my mind with the events of the previous evening. She was deflecting my question, which wasn’t like her. She eyed the food.

“By all means, eat if you’re still hungry.”

“Sadly, I would very much like to fit into my dress for the evening.”

“What kept you awake, love?”

Lillian bit her lip, staring down at Thaddeus’s document. “You know I’m bad at names.”

I rolled my eyes. “This is a town of nobodies, with a leadership that accomplishes little beyond petty haughtiness, and an overall impact of-“

“I know, I know.” Lillian ran her fingers through her hair. “You’ve brought me here as a chance to practice everything I’ve learned.”

“It’s not a test, love.”

“But it is,” Lillian stressed the final word. “What if I embarrass you? Or make a fool of myself—”

“—Then the discount elite of Dahlreed will have their weekly fodder of gossip, and nothing more will come of it.”

Lillian was silent. There was something in her face that unsettled me. She almost looked…

I shook it off. “If it’s too much, too soon, I understand. You don’t have to go.”

“No.” She shook her head, “No, thank you, but I can do this.”

“The best thing you can do is come out on the town with me. I’m meeting a cousin for drinks.”

She shot me a dubious look.

I continued, “We’ll get the liquor flowing a bit early—not too much, but just enough to smooth things along, tend the nerves.”

Lillian laughed that light, musical laugh. “Any time we drink while the sun is up, our plans for the evening tend to start and end with the nearest bed. Or garden.”

“That was one time!”

“One time wasn’t enough?”

“No one saw us.”

Her eyes narrowed playfully. “How much did you pay the gardener?”

I threw up my hands. “Fine, fine. Then, I’ll stay here. Help you study. Quiz you on the names.”

“Uhuh. You’ve already committed to drinking, and now you don’t want to go without me.”

“I can’t help that it’s far more fun when you’re there.”

She smiled, resting her head on her palm. “Go, my love. Be the mildly irresponsible prince they expect. Better yet, make a scene, so they’re whispering about you, rather than me.”

I sighed, pushed myself off the desk, and leaned down to kiss her. “The things I do for you.”

/////

Had I traveled alone, I would have drained the tavern. Instead, I nursed a single Oteron for the entire affair. This sort of event was so played out for me, I might have skipped it entirely, but I knew Lillian well enough to realize how much it meant to her. The two of us, in public, before the world. No longer hiding. Despite my cavalier attitude, I wanted it to go well.

It didn’t.

At first, she handled herself beautifully. We danced a classic shuden, the tempo slow enough that I had a chance to show her off with a series of slow spins and flairs. She was radiant, and for the first time, everyone else could see it.

Then came the gauntlet. A small legion of nobles that made their approach as casually as seagulls, swooping in to steal a moment of our time. Lillian remembered almost a dozen of them, and spoke to each politely and cordially. Then trouble arose. She confused Viscount Gallbridge with Lord Cedric to Gallbridge’s face, and Lord Cedric was close enough to make a snide remark about knowing her betters.

I defused the situation, but everything spiraled from there. Lillian pulled into me, latched to my arm, and the air of anxious silence and deference settled over her like a cloud. She stuttered, and stammered, and I watched helplessly as the nobles—sensing blood in the water, ignored my attempts to interfere and hammered her with questions about her history, and the foreign kingdom she hailed from.

Eventually, with as much class and dignity as she could muster, Lillian slipped from under my arm, politely disengaged from the conversation, and fled.

I followed her out of the ballroom onto a long, expansive balcony. The sky here was dark and vast, thousands of stars on display, a crescent moon hanging above her head, dyeing her peach silk dress crimson in the darkness.

I heard sniffling before I reached her. Unsure of what else to do, I wrapped her gently in my arms.

“It’s beautiful out here,” Lillian’s voice quavered. She leaned her head back against me.”

“Cedric is an ass. I’m pretty sure Thaddeus put that in his notes: Royal Ass.”

“Why can we never see the stars back home?” She continued as if I’d said nothing.

“I can’t say.” Perhaps distraction was the comfort she needed. “Why do you think?”

“Perhaps the gods did not wish it so. Whitefall is prosperous—and perhaps having all that we have, along with the stars, is simply too much to ask.”

“Lillian.”

“I really made a mess of things.”

“No.”

“They’re probably all talking about me.”

“Maybe for a moment, but not anymore, thanks to Lady Crendle.”

“—The Vintner’s wife?”

“See, you do remember,” I said. She looked down, and I chastised myself for the mistake. “Anyway, in a delicious bit of irony, Lady Crendle just caught a falling glass of red wine with her dress.”

“Wasn’t she wearing white?”

“She was.”

The distraction earned me a small smile, before it faded.

“I’m sorry,” Lillian said. “We both knew names are difficult for me, but this was not good.”

“It was just a stumble. If Cedric hadn’t been such a swine—”

“How many mistakes must I make, before you stop blaming others for them?” Lillian whispered.

My stomach tightened. “What do you mean?”

“I’m not cut out for this. Maybe I never was.”

I voiced my greatest fear. “Should… we stop?”

She was silent then.

“If you don’t want this, I understand.”

Lillian shook her head, rubbing an errant tear from her eye. “I want you. You’re everything to me.”

Relief flooded me. I held her tightly, terrified that if I let her go, she might disappear. “Good. Good. Then our path forward is easy.”

Lillian shifted in my arms to look up at me. “How?”

“We stay the course. Listen to me.” I waved my arm back toward the ballroom, “None of us were born to this. They are not better than you because of their breeding.” I pulled her hand to my lips and kissed it. “They are not better than you at all. You are kind, brilliant, and wonderful. Smarter than the lot of them. All that they have that you do not, is the advantage of having lived in this world longer.”

A shadow of something flitted across her face, too fast to recognize.

“So, we stay the course.”

“Yes,” I smiled at her, my heart still racing in my chest. “This was too early. But I could already see it in you. The queen.”

Lillian breathed slowly. “If you’re certain.”

“With all my heart.”

/////

I stared at the wall, counting the brick as I waited for Xarmos to return. A tirade of emotion ran through me. The tickle at the back of my mind had become a deafening roar. This whole thing was bullshit. A waste of time. Seeing her again was hard enough. But the memories differed from my own personal recollection. Some part of me wondered if the memories were altered. A larger part of me feared that they weren’t. That this how it always was, I just couldn’t see it.

Was I always so blind?

Xarmos stirred, his lips pressed together, as if in a great deal of pain. I held his gaze. Eventually, he murmured, “Fuck this place.”

“Right there with you.” I helped him up, and together we approached the next door. 

It was time to end this.

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