The King at Twilight
Chapter Two
By Maria Szabo
Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction, and the only profit being made is that of enjoyment.
The Kirin of Tai stood just outside the doorway, as things were settled around him. The Court of Kei was in chaos, and he didn't want to be in the way, so he stepped aside to let his hosts and rescuers settle their affairs while he watched from a slight distance, bemused. Once again, he had a nagging feeling that the trouble had been his fault.
It had all happened so quickly. One moment he was home, and the next moment he was…but wait. That first place wasn't home, was it? That was the other place, full of vague longings and the kind of memories that would only appear in the middle of the night when he awoke in a cold sweat, choking on the taste of blood, grabbing at his forehead and gasping out his pain.
But here, this was not home either. This was the Kingdom of Kei, where he had been brought to meet the Queen, and where they had been attacked by insurgents from her own kingdom, in a scene eerily familiar to that horrible day so many years ago in Tai. But she had weathered the crises, and now she stood being scolded by her Kirin, in what for him was an unusual outburst of emotion.
Taiki would have been amused, if he weren't so tired.
This palace was not his palace, this ruler was not his ruler, this kingdom was not his domain. He leaned against one of the great marble pillars and pressed his heated forehead against the cool stone. It had been so long, but he still remembered the palace at capitol of Tai, with its gaudy magnificence that stood in such contrast to Tai's stark, mountainous landscape. And he remembered his King, so confident and sure, not giving an inch, so different from this Queen of Kei who questioned herself and compromised, who was no older than he was himself, who didn't have the fire in her that he had remembered seeing in the eyes of Saku Gyousou, when the general had knelt to offer incense in the great Hall on that hot summer day atop the Holy Mountain.
Yet here she stood, he thought. Alive. Keiki had chosen well. As Taiki himself had chosen Gyousou-sama. Surely, then…
He pushed himself away from the pillar, his body screaming protest with each movement. He was weak, and frightened, too, but that didn't matter. If there was a chance, he would take it.
"My King would never falter," he whispered the words to himself, like a prayer. "Let my heart be like his."
Taking a deep breath, he walked into the room. There was work to do.
To be continued