"Sunday!" Tuesday repeats scornfully. "I'm surprised that fool left the Incomparable Gardens."
"It was a great surprise for me as well," Monday says dryly.
"Well, what is this proposal? It must be astonishing; I cannot imagine one such as you stooping to play the messenger for just anyone."
Monday ignores the insult. "You are correct. Sunday has engaged a mortal, one qualified to become the Rightful Heir."
Tuesday turns to squint at Arthur. "He didn't seem like a Piper's Child."
"Indeed, young Arthur is mortal," Monday agrees.
"I will not give up the Second Key," Tuesday says, clenching his hands into fists. The metal of the Second Key gauntlets rasps together discordantly.
"It will not be giving the Key up so much as... temporarily loaning it out," Monday says.
Tuesday's gaze drifts to the sword at Monday's side. "And you have already done this?"
"Yes," Monday lies.
"And what does this entail? I was talking to the mortal," Tuesday adds, when Monday opens his mouth to reply.
"Um, well. I've only... done it once," Arthur hedges. "Basically, I accept the Key from you and appoint you regent of the Demesne in question (so, the Far Reaches in this case) and things go back to the way they were. Except now you don't have to worry about that pesky Will because you did relinquish the Key to a Rightful Heir like it says."
Tuesday sighs. "That is entirely too much effort. My portion of the Will remains secure, so there is no reason to go through with that."
"It just takes a couple of words," Arthur says, stepping on Monday's foot when he goes to retort. "And then I have to say some things, and then we'll be out of your hair! You probably won't see us again for..." Here he looks up at Monday once again.
"The rest of eternity," Monday says promptly.
"... Never seeing your arrogant face again is appealing," Tuesday muses.
"Likewise," Monday grits out. "Your slack administration and lackadaisical attitude are offensive."
"OK! You don't like each other. I get it, you both get it, I bet every Denizen in the Far Reaches and the Lower House gets it. So are you going to do it or not, Grim Tuesday?"
Tuesday draws himself up; despite his lack of activity, his shoulders remain broad and he cuts an impressive figure despite the tartan blanket tucked over his legs. "There will be no intrusion on my Demesne from the other Trustees?"
"At least not Monday and Sunday," Arthur says. "We haven't asked the others yet. But I'll have them agree when we do!" he adds quickly.
Tuesday is silent for several moments, apparently mulling this over.
"Very well," he says at length. "I have reached my decision.
"I, Tuesday, Trustee of the Ultimate Architect, keeper of the Second Key and Lord of the Far Reaches, hereby relinquish the Second Key and with it Mastery of the Far Reaches, to Arthur, the Rightful Heir."
The gauntlets glow briefly, then fly off Tuesday's hands and onto Arthur's.
"Oh," Arthur says, staring down at the Key. It has resized itself to fit his smaller hands perfectly, Monday notes.
"Now, my Key?" Tuesday says, glaring. Or glaring as much as someone with eyes half-lidded and looking to be on the verge of sleep can, at any rate.
"Right, sorry. There's just one thing that I want to try first." Arthur crosses the distance between himself and Tuesday before Monday or the Grim can react. He lays his hands upon Tuesday's shoulders and says, "Be healed, in body and in mind."