Chapter Two- Opinions of the King
The day was a little windy again. It wasn't so bad that one had to wear a cloak, but it was certainly enough to get one's attention. After a while, one also got a little cold. King Albert rubbed his gloved hands together and shivered a little. Then he looked up at the tombstone again, smiling faintly.
The King hadn't changed too drastically over the years, though now his hair was starting to gray ever so slightly at the temples. He wore his usual traveling garb, his green outfit with the green cape. Though now his stomach was a little bigger than when he was younger, he was still the same.
"Old friend," he murmured, reaching out to touch the tombstone. "If only we could see your ghost again. But knowing you still watch us is comforting. I pray you are comfortable where you are, Lavitz. Though, who's to say whether eternal sleep is comfortable or not?" The king tilted his head to one side. "In any case, everything's so busy I that Emille, naturally, told me to go away for a while so she could deal with the politicians." Now he chuckled. "I don't know what I'd do without her, Lavitz. She is almost a female version of you- strong and protective, though in a much more- hmm, diplomatic way? After all, she's not a knight at all."
Again, he paused. "I wish you could have met her. I think you would have liked her, Lavitz. At first, she was very proper about everything. Well, she still is, but I believe that over the years she has become a little blunt. And slightly louder. But she is still quite proper about everything she does. I suppose that comes with being a mother and a queen?"
"Sire!"
Albert slowly turned around to see one of the knights from the Second Knighthood salute him. "Yes, Tran?" he asked.
"Your Majesty, it's not wise for you to go off on your own like this!" the knight scolded. "Anything can happen."
The King smiled faintly. "My Spirit is still with me, Tran, and I can still fight if I needed to. At least long enough for you to come and help me. And that is assuming there are enemies around."
"There are always enemies, sire," the knight said.
"..." Albert brushed his fingers along the tombstone once again, feeling the roughness of it through his gloves, and his smile grew sad. "I will visit you later, Lavitz," he promised. Then he stood, shivering slightly as another breeze blew by. "Soa, it is starting to get cool again!"
"That does tend to happen during autumn, sire," the knight answered, looking very solemn.
Albert chuckled. "Yes, it does. Let's hope that it also continues to become warm after the winter, though!"
The knight didn't answer to that one, but he did ask, "Does Your Majesty wish to go anywhere else?"
"Do you really think I need an escort, Tran? It's been years since anyone's tried to harm me..."
The knight looked at him. "If lords in Tiberoa and Mille Seseau can die with suspicious causes, so might you. I'm here to prevent that, Your Majesty."
"True." That was one of the unsettling discussions in court these days. Albert frowned slightly, staring into space for a moment. "That's very true."
There had been reports, on and off, that lords or ladies would die without reason. Some were determined to be poisoned, and some were quite obviously stabbed, but there was never evidence. Except, one time, the assassin or whoever left a knife. However, the knife had been too plain to use it for information...
King Albert shook his head. That was a worry for when he was in court, not when he was outside of it. In any case, those lords and ladies had not had Spirits protecting them and warning them against danger.
He slipped a hand into his pocket and, through his thin gloves, felt a familiar gentle warmth and smiled. The Dragoon Spirit had never left his side since the war with Melbu Frahma. Albert was planning to hand it over to his son, though, very shortly. His time on the thrown was starting to end, and he knew it.
/Arend,/ he thought. /Even if he cannot use it, surely one of his trusted knight-friends would be accepted and could protect him from anything!/
The king held the Jade Dragoon Spirit in his hand for a moment, letting the warmth recognize and greet its current 'master'. Well, he wasn't really the master in the matter- it chose who its user really was. But it accepted him still, which amazed him.
/I suppose it sticks with a master unless the master rejects it or unless the master in question dies,/ he thought. /Well, hopefully I'll just be rejecting it, not dying. Not quite yet./
But those were depressing thoughts. And though the day was windy, it was clear. Depressing thoughts should be saved for those dreary, raining days when one had nothing else to do but brood.
/Not that Emille allows me to brood much,/ he thought in amusement. /Every time I start brooding she makes me do something. Whether she tells me to go and sweep the whole castle up or read a book... I remember that cleaning all too well.../ He winced. /That was a little cruel. I guess now I know how the cleaners feel about cleaning, though. They certainly seemed happy when I appointed a couple more people to the job. At least Emille didn't make me wear that ridiculous outfit or I'd be the laughingstock everywhere... I don't know how I'd face King Zoir, or the Queen of Mille Seseau.../
"Something wrong, King Albert?" the knight asked curiously, watching the expressions flit across his king's face.
"No, just thinking again," Albert replied.
"So did Your Majesty wish to go anywhere else, or was that all for today?"
Albert glanced up at the sun. It was almost noontime. "No, nothing else for now. Let's head back."
The knight nodded and the two walked back towards the castle.
When they got there, Albert heard a couple of young men's laughter and shouting and smiled a little. Apparently Arend was about finished with his lessons.
"...Oh, come now! That was a perfectly legal move!"
"I wouldn't call twisting a man's arm a legal dueling move, Arend."
"But it stopped him, didn't it?"
Albert chuckled wryly and shook his head.
"Besides," his son continued. "It would be perfectly legal on a battlefield- AH! Now THAT wasn't legal!"
The king walked into the training part of the castle to see one of the veteran knights calmly twisting his son's arm with his son wincing. His best friend was sitting there with a very smug look on his face.
"What is this?" he asked in amusement.
The three looked up, and the veteran released his son. "Just debating on legal and non-legal dueling moves, Your Majesty," he replied gruffly.
Arend rubbed his wrist ruefully. "And I give. I don't feel like having my arm twisted out of its joint so you can make your point about all this." He glanced up and smiled a little. "How was your walk, Father?"
"Good enough," Albert replied. He took a moment to study his son. He was fairly tall and slim like his mother. His hair was worn long, like Albert's, but instead of tying it back he let it fall loosely down to his back. Those golden curls, Albert had learned from commoner's gossip, were what girls were most recently breaking their hearts about. "I see you've finished your training for the day?"
Arend shrugged. "Yeah. We drilled a lot and practiced dueling at the end." Then he added, "I won."
"With a non-legal move," the veteran reminded him.
"Let's just say it would be legal if we were in a real battlefield. It would be, wouldn't it?" Arend looked appealingly at his father, who nodded.
"But this isn't a real battlefield. Save those moves for when you're practicing for that. Many lords would get offended if you steered away from tradition during a dueling match with their sons, Arend," Albert explained to him.
Arend sighed. "Alright, fine. I won't do it to any lords when we're traditionally dueling. I shall be quaint and proper."
"No, no, that's for the ladies!" his friend suddenly piped up. "My friend, since last time I saw you, you still seem a man, not a lady. A man is supposed to be charming and witty!"
Albert blinked and glanced at Arend's friend Ranin. He was a lot shorter than the Prince, but slightly stockier. He had short brown hair and wide brown eyes that almost always sparkled with mischief of one kind or another. Right then, Ranin was lounging against the wall without a tunic on, watching the rest of them easily.
The king sighed and continued to watch him as Arend responded.
"You're right, I am a man still unless someone did something when I wasn't looking," Albert's son replied. "But what if a man cannot be charming and witty as you, friend?"
Ranin batted his eyes. "Then I suppose he must turn to being dark and mysterious," he answered.
"Would that I could. If only I had dark hair," Arend sighed longingly.
"You could dye it," Ranin suggested.
"I think not," Albert cut in. "Why don't we head up into the castle? Ranin, care to join us?"
Ranin grinned. "No thank you, Your Majesty. I have... uh, other people to go see. I'll talk to you later, Arend." He had the grace to grab his shirt and sword, bow to everyone else in the room, and then walk off.
Walk? Well, it was more like strutting.
Arend chuckled. "There he goes again. If he keeps wandering around shirtless, he's going to catch cold. I don't care what he says about his family being immune to illness."
"The ladies appreciate it," the veteran said.
/And so do some men,/ Albert thought. Arend caught the look on his father's face.
"Oh father, he's just going off with some friends. He told me he's going to ride out for a while- say, can I do that after I change?"
Albert shrugged. "As long as you are back for court, I have no complaints."
"Court is why I want to go, father. I admit I was hoping we'd all forget court was going today and just go riding." Arend waved his hands around.
"No such luck, son. Let's head up and have something to drink while you change." Albert nodded at the knight veteran. "Thanks again for training the boys."
The veteran shrugged. "Anything for Your Majesty."
Albert smiled. "Let's go, Arend."
The two walked outside and up the stairs towards the main entrance to the castle. A cool breeze made Arend shiver and rub his arms a little.
"It is getting cold again."
"So it is."
They continued walking.
"Arend," Albert then said hesitantly. "You know I don't mind who you-"
Arend snorted. "Father, I am not interested in men. I am quite content with young, attractive women. I leave the young, attractive men to Ranin. So don't worry yourself."
Albert sighed. "I'm just making sure."
"We're just best friends, like you and the Knight Lavitz were. Only we're the same age."
Albert paused. /I suppose that is true,/ he thought.
He then heard someone running behind them, and turned to see another knight, a middle-aged man, hurrying towards them. Albert smiled in admiration- the man wasn't the least bit out of breath when he reached the King and Prince.
"Your Majesties, there is a warrior here to see you," he said calmly, pausing to bow to them.
"A warrior? Who?" Albert questioned.
"He calls himself Dart-"
"Dart! Where is he now?" Albert said, surprised.
"He is just approaching the castle now, King Albert," the knight replied. "I thought you would like to know-"
"Yes, of course, of course!" Albert glanced at his son. "It appears that court is indeed canceled today, Arend. Why don't you go and ride with your friends this afternoon?"
Arend nodded with a smile. "Thank you, Father."
"I will follow you with Dart in a short while, Arend," Albert told his son. "Go on in and clean yourself."
Arend obeyed, and Albert turned to head back down the road.
"Dart," he muttered. "You said Shana was pregnant. What on earth are you doing coming here at such a close time?"
~*~
Eh, heh. There's chapter two. You like? Please review! Reviews are soo nice! ^_^
The day was a little windy again. It wasn't so bad that one had to wear a cloak, but it was certainly enough to get one's attention. After a while, one also got a little cold. King Albert rubbed his gloved hands together and shivered a little. Then he looked up at the tombstone again, smiling faintly.
The King hadn't changed too drastically over the years, though now his hair was starting to gray ever so slightly at the temples. He wore his usual traveling garb, his green outfit with the green cape. Though now his stomach was a little bigger than when he was younger, he was still the same.
"Old friend," he murmured, reaching out to touch the tombstone. "If only we could see your ghost again. But knowing you still watch us is comforting. I pray you are comfortable where you are, Lavitz. Though, who's to say whether eternal sleep is comfortable or not?" The king tilted his head to one side. "In any case, everything's so busy I that Emille, naturally, told me to go away for a while so she could deal with the politicians." Now he chuckled. "I don't know what I'd do without her, Lavitz. She is almost a female version of you- strong and protective, though in a much more- hmm, diplomatic way? After all, she's not a knight at all."
Again, he paused. "I wish you could have met her. I think you would have liked her, Lavitz. At first, she was very proper about everything. Well, she still is, but I believe that over the years she has become a little blunt. And slightly louder. But she is still quite proper about everything she does. I suppose that comes with being a mother and a queen?"
"Sire!"
Albert slowly turned around to see one of the knights from the Second Knighthood salute him. "Yes, Tran?" he asked.
"Your Majesty, it's not wise for you to go off on your own like this!" the knight scolded. "Anything can happen."
The King smiled faintly. "My Spirit is still with me, Tran, and I can still fight if I needed to. At least long enough for you to come and help me. And that is assuming there are enemies around."
"There are always enemies, sire," the knight said.
"..." Albert brushed his fingers along the tombstone once again, feeling the roughness of it through his gloves, and his smile grew sad. "I will visit you later, Lavitz," he promised. Then he stood, shivering slightly as another breeze blew by. "Soa, it is starting to get cool again!"
"That does tend to happen during autumn, sire," the knight answered, looking very solemn.
Albert chuckled. "Yes, it does. Let's hope that it also continues to become warm after the winter, though!"
The knight didn't answer to that one, but he did ask, "Does Your Majesty wish to go anywhere else?"
"Do you really think I need an escort, Tran? It's been years since anyone's tried to harm me..."
The knight looked at him. "If lords in Tiberoa and Mille Seseau can die with suspicious causes, so might you. I'm here to prevent that, Your Majesty."
"True." That was one of the unsettling discussions in court these days. Albert frowned slightly, staring into space for a moment. "That's very true."
There had been reports, on and off, that lords or ladies would die without reason. Some were determined to be poisoned, and some were quite obviously stabbed, but there was never evidence. Except, one time, the assassin or whoever left a knife. However, the knife had been too plain to use it for information...
King Albert shook his head. That was a worry for when he was in court, not when he was outside of it. In any case, those lords and ladies had not had Spirits protecting them and warning them against danger.
He slipped a hand into his pocket and, through his thin gloves, felt a familiar gentle warmth and smiled. The Dragoon Spirit had never left his side since the war with Melbu Frahma. Albert was planning to hand it over to his son, though, very shortly. His time on the thrown was starting to end, and he knew it.
/Arend,/ he thought. /Even if he cannot use it, surely one of his trusted knight-friends would be accepted and could protect him from anything!/
The king held the Jade Dragoon Spirit in his hand for a moment, letting the warmth recognize and greet its current 'master'. Well, he wasn't really the master in the matter- it chose who its user really was. But it accepted him still, which amazed him.
/I suppose it sticks with a master unless the master rejects it or unless the master in question dies,/ he thought. /Well, hopefully I'll just be rejecting it, not dying. Not quite yet./
But those were depressing thoughts. And though the day was windy, it was clear. Depressing thoughts should be saved for those dreary, raining days when one had nothing else to do but brood.
/Not that Emille allows me to brood much,/ he thought in amusement. /Every time I start brooding she makes me do something. Whether she tells me to go and sweep the whole castle up or read a book... I remember that cleaning all too well.../ He winced. /That was a little cruel. I guess now I know how the cleaners feel about cleaning, though. They certainly seemed happy when I appointed a couple more people to the job. At least Emille didn't make me wear that ridiculous outfit or I'd be the laughingstock everywhere... I don't know how I'd face King Zoir, or the Queen of Mille Seseau.../
"Something wrong, King Albert?" the knight asked curiously, watching the expressions flit across his king's face.
"No, just thinking again," Albert replied.
"So did Your Majesty wish to go anywhere else, or was that all for today?"
Albert glanced up at the sun. It was almost noontime. "No, nothing else for now. Let's head back."
The knight nodded and the two walked back towards the castle.
When they got there, Albert heard a couple of young men's laughter and shouting and smiled a little. Apparently Arend was about finished with his lessons.
"...Oh, come now! That was a perfectly legal move!"
"I wouldn't call twisting a man's arm a legal dueling move, Arend."
"But it stopped him, didn't it?"
Albert chuckled wryly and shook his head.
"Besides," his son continued. "It would be perfectly legal on a battlefield- AH! Now THAT wasn't legal!"
The king walked into the training part of the castle to see one of the veteran knights calmly twisting his son's arm with his son wincing. His best friend was sitting there with a very smug look on his face.
"What is this?" he asked in amusement.
The three looked up, and the veteran released his son. "Just debating on legal and non-legal dueling moves, Your Majesty," he replied gruffly.
Arend rubbed his wrist ruefully. "And I give. I don't feel like having my arm twisted out of its joint so you can make your point about all this." He glanced up and smiled a little. "How was your walk, Father?"
"Good enough," Albert replied. He took a moment to study his son. He was fairly tall and slim like his mother. His hair was worn long, like Albert's, but instead of tying it back he let it fall loosely down to his back. Those golden curls, Albert had learned from commoner's gossip, were what girls were most recently breaking their hearts about. "I see you've finished your training for the day?"
Arend shrugged. "Yeah. We drilled a lot and practiced dueling at the end." Then he added, "I won."
"With a non-legal move," the veteran reminded him.
"Let's just say it would be legal if we were in a real battlefield. It would be, wouldn't it?" Arend looked appealingly at his father, who nodded.
"But this isn't a real battlefield. Save those moves for when you're practicing for that. Many lords would get offended if you steered away from tradition during a dueling match with their sons, Arend," Albert explained to him.
Arend sighed. "Alright, fine. I won't do it to any lords when we're traditionally dueling. I shall be quaint and proper."
"No, no, that's for the ladies!" his friend suddenly piped up. "My friend, since last time I saw you, you still seem a man, not a lady. A man is supposed to be charming and witty!"
Albert blinked and glanced at Arend's friend Ranin. He was a lot shorter than the Prince, but slightly stockier. He had short brown hair and wide brown eyes that almost always sparkled with mischief of one kind or another. Right then, Ranin was lounging against the wall without a tunic on, watching the rest of them easily.
The king sighed and continued to watch him as Arend responded.
"You're right, I am a man still unless someone did something when I wasn't looking," Albert's son replied. "But what if a man cannot be charming and witty as you, friend?"
Ranin batted his eyes. "Then I suppose he must turn to being dark and mysterious," he answered.
"Would that I could. If only I had dark hair," Arend sighed longingly.
"You could dye it," Ranin suggested.
"I think not," Albert cut in. "Why don't we head up into the castle? Ranin, care to join us?"
Ranin grinned. "No thank you, Your Majesty. I have... uh, other people to go see. I'll talk to you later, Arend." He had the grace to grab his shirt and sword, bow to everyone else in the room, and then walk off.
Walk? Well, it was more like strutting.
Arend chuckled. "There he goes again. If he keeps wandering around shirtless, he's going to catch cold. I don't care what he says about his family being immune to illness."
"The ladies appreciate it," the veteran said.
/And so do some men,/ Albert thought. Arend caught the look on his father's face.
"Oh father, he's just going off with some friends. He told me he's going to ride out for a while- say, can I do that after I change?"
Albert shrugged. "As long as you are back for court, I have no complaints."
"Court is why I want to go, father. I admit I was hoping we'd all forget court was going today and just go riding." Arend waved his hands around.
"No such luck, son. Let's head up and have something to drink while you change." Albert nodded at the knight veteran. "Thanks again for training the boys."
The veteran shrugged. "Anything for Your Majesty."
Albert smiled. "Let's go, Arend."
The two walked outside and up the stairs towards the main entrance to the castle. A cool breeze made Arend shiver and rub his arms a little.
"It is getting cold again."
"So it is."
They continued walking.
"Arend," Albert then said hesitantly. "You know I don't mind who you-"
Arend snorted. "Father, I am not interested in men. I am quite content with young, attractive women. I leave the young, attractive men to Ranin. So don't worry yourself."
Albert sighed. "I'm just making sure."
"We're just best friends, like you and the Knight Lavitz were. Only we're the same age."
Albert paused. /I suppose that is true,/ he thought.
He then heard someone running behind them, and turned to see another knight, a middle-aged man, hurrying towards them. Albert smiled in admiration- the man wasn't the least bit out of breath when he reached the King and Prince.
"Your Majesties, there is a warrior here to see you," he said calmly, pausing to bow to them.
"A warrior? Who?" Albert questioned.
"He calls himself Dart-"
"Dart! Where is he now?" Albert said, surprised.
"He is just approaching the castle now, King Albert," the knight replied. "I thought you would like to know-"
"Yes, of course, of course!" Albert glanced at his son. "It appears that court is indeed canceled today, Arend. Why don't you go and ride with your friends this afternoon?"
Arend nodded with a smile. "Thank you, Father."
"I will follow you with Dart in a short while, Arend," Albert told his son. "Go on in and clean yourself."
Arend obeyed, and Albert turned to head back down the road.
"Dart," he muttered. "You said Shana was pregnant. What on earth are you doing coming here at such a close time?"
~*~
Eh, heh. There's chapter two. You like? Please review! Reviews are soo nice! ^_^