10/?: What Duncan Saw/What Adam Explained/What Duncan Learned.
Ducan M'strahl like to think of himself as a most worldly man, having seen and experienced much, if not all of what the world show, both light and dark. Certainly he'd seen enough war and spilt enough blood to last a dozen lifetimes, which likely explained his jaded worldview. The few bright points in his otherwise twilight existence was his adopted daughter, and her having collapsed alongside Prince Adam was as serious a blow to his internal balance. One he was still trying to find equilibrium from.
Indeed, the past five days had left him spinning and breathless as any in his life. Randor and Marlena learning of Adam's…other persona, especially in the manner they did, had left a gapping hole between them that he had no idea how to begin to bridge. He was actually a little surprised Randor, his sworn sovereign, hadn't exiled him the back of beyond the morning following. Instead he'd contented himself with cursing Duncan and his entire lineage in the King's private study (with overlapping sonic shields up so the rest of the palace was not privy to it), ultimately running out of oaths and breath, at which point Ducan unloaded years upon years of frustration and disappointment upon a father who demeaned his son so needlessly.
The two of them had come to a cease-fire of sorts, both recognizing neither had the moral high ground and that their children's lives vastly outweighed their wounded pride.
Duncan had elected to keep himself busy thereafter with every bit of busy work he could find. Adam and Teela's…return, restoration, whatever it was…hadn't afforded him any peace. If anything, he'd become as a whirlwind throughout the palace, his breathless activity excused as an effort to ferret out the cause of the Prince and Captain's malady. The rest of the Guard had joined in, albeit more obliquely, commendably if unknowingly covering for their commander's internal dismay.
There was confusion there as well, as the Captain had yet to return to formal duty, and Duncan learned she was sighted wandering the halls and byways of the palace, seemingly disinterested in anything and everyone save the walls and stones. Again, this was excused as Teela simply stretching her legs despite being under Healer's Care. Her seeming absentmindedness of people and places similarly explained as residual effect of her coma, her memory proving as sharp as ever once reminded by someone.
Duncan suspected there was more to her movements than appeared on the surface, and so resolved that two days passage was sufficient time for her to recover her wits and speak with her parent. He'd not demand explanation of her, of course; from the time she'd learned to walk, Teela had taken commands poorly. Her years at the Academy hadn't changed this much, save to direct her stubbornness – a trait Duncan took fully responsibility and no small measure of pride for himself – into more productive avenues, hence her immediate assignment as the bodyguard to the Prince. He'd examined her record there with a ruthless eye, enormously proud of her accomplishments even as he worried over her ultimate destiny.
Duncan had in years since found himself hoping against all reason that she would not be cursed to follow her mother's path, and in his most insane hours that she would overcome her obvious distain for her charge's behavior and they would reconnect as closely as they had in childhood. Alas, Teela appeared utterly blind to the close similarities between the Prince and the Hero; no small irony as she likely spent more time in the company of both than any other soul in Eternia. Duncan had often wondered at this, and chalked it up to being that rare case where dedication to her duties left her with a subtle if profound blind spot. He did not envy telling her the truth, if she didn't already know that is. Their momentary waking that second night had left him with the sinking feeling Teela knew more than before, if not everything.
Hence his seeking her out that very morning; better he sound her out as carefully as possible, before someone said or suggested something that, knowingly or not, would let the floodgates open. Duncan used his override code to her bedroom door, urgency overriding simple courtesy just then. The sight that immediately met him would have been enough to induce a migraine:
Teela was standing in the middle of the front room, her back to the door and both arms and legs stretched out to form a free-standing "X". It was the host of additional details that penetrated his shock that nearly sent him into a dead faint.
For openers she was completely naked. While Duncan had seen her in various stages of dress and undress over the years, the Teela of his memory would ever be a shy and demur girl, one never wholly at ease with either her developing body nor with the increased attention others had begun to pay her of late. More than once she'd been likened to a skittish mount about to be saddled and ridden for the first time, and each time Duncan had fairly bit through his tongue to keep his reaction from registering. The Court would have quickly and noticeably emptied otherwise. Thankfully those who might have played courting games with her either were dissuaded by his glare, or by that of the large hawk that sometimes appeared and perched close-by. The few who were too involved with themselves to know better were to a one taken aside by the Prince himself, after which they were never heard from again.
Yet there she stood, bare as at birth and exposed to the full daylight, seemingly unconcerned that all that kept her from sight was the billowing curtains of the open windows.
There was more to it beyond simply nudity. Duncan noted with utter horror that Teela skin was literally covered with some manner of bloody scarring, or so it appeared at first and even second glance. To see his beautiful child desecrated so nearly tipped him into instant madness; fortunate then that several rapid eye-blinks brought the scene into sharper focus, revealing that it was not in fact scarring that covered Teela's flesh, but some manner of elaborate pictogram. From what Duncan could immediately see, it stretched without interruption from her left foot, up the leg, across her torso, and up along her arm, across to the other arm, back down her body, and presumably finishing at her right foot. He squinted to try to get a better look at the image, nearly recoiling at the sight of a long and winding serpent.
He noted, somewhat distantly, that Teela was visibly sweating and her chest heaved deeply as she held herself still. Both her fists were clenched tight and toes curled, while her shoulders and hips shook with small tremors that surely reached deep into her bones. Duncan wondered for a terrible moment at what kind of pain she must have been in, and as quickly realized was the precise opposite of agony that gripped her, which only served to stun and stagger the old soldier further. He might well have averted his eyes in mortified shame had he not spied movement on the other side of Teela's shaking and sweating form.
And here was possibly the greatest shock of all, for it was Prince Adam himself who knelt before his daughter, some manner of brush or pencil held in his good hand and moving it across her skin as if she were no more than a common painter's canvas. Duncan noted somewhat distantly how Teela would jerk and whimper for a beat each time the Prince applied his implement, to which the latter would scowl in irritation.
Looking back up, Duncan found himself pinned with a glare from his daughter, who immediately hissed between clenched teeth "Close the door!" He did exactly this, grateful for the excuse to look away where otherwise morbid fascination would have held him still. Likely it was well he turned as he did as a moan escaped his daughter's throat that no father in creation would ever have willingly allowed himself to hear.
How odd then that her next words were "Adam…if yuh…you…do not fuh…finish this quickly…!" The threat in those words was not implied, but a promised thing.
"If you'd stop flinching ever few seconds…" the Prince replied in that weary tone so familiar to husbands and lovers.
Teela hissed again. "Oh, Goddess, just…finish me…it! Finish it!"
Instead of doing so, Adam leaned back on his haunches and slew an annoyed look upwards. "I've had to re-touch this area three times already. Stay still." No sooner had he brushed the area in question – a patch of skin at Teela's right ankle – than the girl started to crumple with a cry that was nothing shy of desperate. "Teela? Teela!" Adam called to her. When she managed to pry her eyes open and look down at him, Adam grinned and said "Paisho unt halaali."
Duncan had by this point drifted closer to watch, forcing himself to concentrate on the intricate details of the pictogram itself, only to be caught by Teela's immediate reaction to the strange word: she paled and swayed again, this time looking prepared to vomit up her entire digestive tract, eyes bulging from whatever image it brought to mind. It took her several deep breaths to calm herself, only for revulsion to hit again and leave her breathless all over.
"That…" she began to growl, only to have to renew focus on her breathing as nausea threatened. Once she mastered herself, Teela shifted and glared at the Prince. "That…was the most...disgusting thing you've said to me in years!"
"Yes," Adam agreed easily, standing up. "But it worked. I'm finished."
Teela scowled and looked over his efforts, paying no single area more attention than the rest. "This'll do," she murmured, then shuddered and crouched down into a tight ball, knees up to her chin and arms folded against her thighs. "Now...get out!" she ground out, the promise of murder and worse in her voice.
"You sure?" Adam deadpanned, an almost impish grin behind the words.
"Get...out!" Teela screamed, springing up and grabbing a statuette from her desktop, hurling it directly at the Prince's head. Duncan was too shaken as it was to react to this burst of action, watching in shock as the missile zeroed in upon its target, and was relieved beyond words when Adam easily snatched it out of the air.
He turned towards his old mentor and offered another grin, one betraying more fatigue than actual humor. "Let's leave her be, Duncan. Meet me in my room in a minute." With that, the Prince turned on his heel and marched towards the far wall, which shimmered at his approach and swallowed him whole. Duncan watched this with the sort of detached fascination one would pay a waking dream, then turned back to his daughter who was staring at him with watery eyes and a tremble to her lips.
"Teela..." Ducan began to say, only to be quickly silenced by a harsh shake of her head.
"Poppa...please...go!" Another heaving breath. "This...this isn't...anything bad. Just...please go away for a bit. Tell everyone I'm sick or whatever you want. I don't care. Just...go away."
Duncan might have voiced misgivings, even refused outright, if Teela had given him the chance. Instead she turned away and marched with deliberate intent into the privy, shutting the door behind her and closing any discussion. The father within him mediated a silent debate between his brain and heart, the former directing he follow his child's wishes and the latter commanding he stay and wait her out.
The brain won out, albeit narrowly and strictly because it was reasonable he'd learn more from speaking with Prince Adam than sitting there and waiting for Teela to emerge. It might have been a good while before she did so, given she'd started the shower, and Duncan needed some clarity on matters, and quickly. His internal equilibrium had already been seriously compromised by their three-day coma, and their awakening so changed had knocked him further still. Small wonder Marlena had needed to be sedated for a bit; how Randor was dealing with everything better than either of them was a wonder in itself.
Duncan recognized he was delaying himself, and so left the room, making sure to engage the privacy lock as he did. He kept his expression commendably neutral as he turned and saw a pair of Guardsmen standing there. "Yes?" the Man-at-Arms queried.
The taller of the pair – Sergeant Kallen Duncan's mind supplied quickly – stated "We heard some yelling here, Sire. Is the Captain...?"
Duncan quickly held up a placating hand. "She's still feeling a bit out of sorts and asks for privacy." He added a hapless shrug. "I suggest we respect the request, so please warn everyone off."
"Sire," Kallen nodded, and he and his partner resumed their patrol. Duncan waited until they rounded the corner out of sight and moved to the neighboring door, which led to the Prince's quarters. Unlike Teela's, the privacy lock was at the lower setting, allowing automatic entrance upon announcing oneself. This had long been Adam's preferred level of access, one Teela had oft complained about as too lax and too easily circumvented. Duncan wondered if the Prince still held the same outlook now.
Pressing the intercom, he announced "Duncan to see the Prince." There was a quiet whirl and click as the mechanism operated, the door's physical lock disengaged and allowing it to swing open. Normally Duncan wouldn't have worried overmuch; despite the reputation Adam had spent the last few years building of a layabout and coward, few seriously thought he was anywhere near so lax with his person or safety. Duncan himself knew far better than any how foolish it would have been to attack the Prince in any direct manner as this.
The individual in question could immediately be seen at his desk, picking through a dozen separate documents with so tired and familiar an air one would be fooled to think he'd been at it all morning. "Duncan," the Prince nodded in greeting, eye-brows raised in silent query at the visit. "Is there something wrong?"
The Man-at-Arms felt himself momentarily flustered, a most atypical state for him to be in. The...scene...he'd witnessed in the neighboring room had left him more confused than he cared to admit, on several levels.
Adam held up a hand, commanding silence. He then picked up a small crystal Duncan didn't recognize from the desktop and murmured some strange sound. A burst of light issued, filling the room for a single heartbeat before fading, after which Adam dropped the object back to the desk and nodded in satisfaction. "That glamour should keep any eavesdroppers from perceiving what we say here," he explained.
Duncan frowned at the implications. "Who…where did you get the idea that...?"
The Prince gave him an indulgent smile and replied "Duncan, there are at least a half-dozen of Tri-klops' doomseeker drones hovering about within the palace. Plus I wouldn't put it past some of the…opportunistic members of Court to slip a bug into private chambers."
"Tri-klops has drones hidden in here?" Now Duncan standing, eyes roaming around the room in suppressed panic.
"Not in here, per se," Adam tried to reassure him. "Teela and I have already taken care of them. Plus we've blocked out a few possible entry points Skeletor might've tried using."
"Where? What entry points?"
"Ones deep in the catacombs that, normally, you wouldn't even notice."
Duncan scratched his chin thoughtfully. "I'm not going to ask how you two managed to slip down there already."
"Please don't. Normally we'd have brought this directly to you and my father, except to do so would be calling attention to the very same."
Duncan quickly picked up on the logic. "Which you wanted to avoid in the first place, am I right?"
"Exactly." Adam stood and walked over to the luncheon tray that had been rolled in earlier. "Coffee?" he offered, pouring a mug for himself.
"I can get…" Duncan tried to offer, only to see the Prince had already poured and held both by his one hand, deftly delivering the second mug to his long-time friend, then returning to sit at the desk. What should have been an awkward effort appeared so effortless Duncan found himself forgetting his Prince was working with just one arm, and not his primary one at that. Seeing his right arm was still in a sling, Duncan found himself flushing in mild embarrassment.
Adam saw this and read the reasons behind it. "It's alright, Duncan. Truly, it's as…strange for me to see I suddenly have two arms again as it must be for you."
"Strange," Duncan rolled the word about in his mouth. "That's…pretty mild a word in comparison, lad."
"Lad," Adam said, mimicked the word-tasting mannerism. "It's been a very long time since I've been called that." His body language and voice bespoke the truth of this, one Duncan found himself hastening to move from.
He nodded towards the desk. "Who created that glamour? Orko?"
"Teela did." Adam took a measure sip of his coffee and gestured towards the far wall. "You're wondering what all that was?" Duncan gave him a very slow, very deliberate nod, eyes narrowing dangerously. Both men knew that no matter what might lie between the Prince and Captain, deliberate pain being inflicted upon the latter would be met in kind upon the source, regardless of Royal standing or not.
"What in blazes were you doing to her?"
It was the father speaking the question, not the Man-at-Arms, and Adam knew better than to treat the issue with the slightest levity. Duncan was armed, after all, and was clearly struggling to reconcile all that had happened in the span of what - for him - was but days. Adam knew he and Teela were struggling in similar fashion, albeit at a wholly different scale, and so could sympathize to some extent. He indulged a moment in his memories of similar confrontations he'd been party to across the years, and on both sides of the divide to boot, a kind of whistful smile coming to his lips.
He immediately realized this was the wrong mannerism to show the man across from him. The man who was father of the woman he'd apparently been torturing but a few minutes ago, in full and clear view of said father. Despite the danger (such as it was; Adam was fairly sure he could defend himself if it came to it), a humorous chuckle escaped him at the plight poor Duncan was about to undergo. Again, Adam could sympathize, having suffered the same several times himself. Ah, Nyssa, he found himself thinking. How you stood having us act like we did…
Duncan's now-coarse voice shook him from this reverie. "I repeat, what were you doing to Teela?"
Adam had to actually think for an extra beat how best to explain to his old friend what he'd seen and what was involved behind it. Ultimately, and mindful Teela would definitely not thank him for upsetting her father worse than he already was, he said "She's a totemic sorceress now, Duncan." Again he gestured towards the wall appearing to separate their quarters; in truth that wall was now every bit an illusion as a common rainbow. Teela had not asked and he had not argued over her removal of it their first night returned; he might well have knocked it down himself if she hadn't acted first. A perfect metaphor, Adam silently mused, of their lives together for far too many years.
"As such," he added with the gesture. "As such she needs some conduit to tap the forces and powers to wield them properly."
"And you're…doing whatever that was…what does that have to do…"
The Prince found his friend's sputtering confusion at once amusing and disheartening. Perhaps he'd romanticized his memories of his mentor and friend, the Man-at-Arms who never sputtered in rage or puzzlement, who was calm and in control of all moments in ways Adam himself had aspired to be in his guise as the era's Champion. It hurt a bit seeing one of his heroes prove to be as human as the rest of them.
Well, better he explain this than let Teela attempt to. She had little patience when it came to such matters, ever the woman of actions over deliberation. No sense risking taxing her patience with her father's thick skull.
"What I was doing, Duncan, was providing her that needed conduit. She's just most…comfortable using pictography rather than an icon." Adam considered telling his friend how many different such pictographs his daughter had used over their time away, but swiftly discarded the idea. Duncan would be struggling enough in coming days without those images in his head.
"You've done this to her before?" It was asked in that tight, angry way that warned Adam that any answer was the wrong one. Ah, well, all he could tell was the truth. Goddess alone knew how much Teelana would be willing to hear before she tried to incinerate him.
"Not myself personally, no." Adam thought for a moment, then added "At least not to the extent you saw here today. Normally one of her Bound Initiates would take care of it." He didn't add that normally Teela would also have been shackled and chained between two poles, body spread as Duncan saw when he'd walked in, and that she would have taken a few deep breaths of hemphenna prior to beginning. Such ensured she was both numbed to the inevitable sensations The Marking invoked and did not unintentionally interrupt the work. That she'd held out as long as she had was a testament to her natural willpower; Adam doubted he would've lasted even half as long.
Try a tenth, Teela's phantom voice waffed through the room. Duncan head snapped up, eyes again moving all around.
"A tenth what?" he asked of the air.
Nothing to be concerned of, Poppa, Teela sought to assure him. Difficult given what he'd seen, and unlikely to be anywhere near as effective as needed. It's just an old joke between us. She left it at that, which in itself was no small mercy lest she told her father precisely where said "joke" originated and was told betwixt them. It was unlikely he'd share their idea of 'pillow humor'.
She went on saying I will say this: Adam has become quite an artist in his dotage.
"Really?" Duncan drawled, slewing an eye towards the Prince. "Then why were you looking ready to scream?" Adam wondered if he was deliberately misinterpreting what he'd seen, or was simply too much the parent to consciously acknowledge the obvious. Teela offered no insight or thought there, instead withdrawing her presence and leaving the suite slightly colder than before.
Duncan couldn't help but frown and ask "Telepathy?" Adam quickly shook his head.
"Projection by Forces," he corrected, referring to a time-honored spell-casting that allowed communication over distances. The Magickal Comm as Adam would refer to it. "She's just stretching her legs, so to speak."
"Really? That doesn't answer the question, does it?"
"Which one?" Adam prevaricated, wanting to forestall the inevitable.
"Why was Teela having such a bad reaction to your…work?" Adam had to wait a few beats, just to see if Teela cared to explain this one, which she apparently didn't give the air remained silent. There being no assistance from that corner, Adam looked back to his friend and met his glare directly.
"What makes you think that was a bad reaction, Duncan?"
"You mean besides her crying while you were carving into her like that…" The Prince visibly flinched, though it wasn't in shame so far as Duncan could read. What else might have elicited such reaction from him wasn't something Duncan was at all comfortable considering, never mind discussing.
He wasn't 'carving' into me, Father! Teela suddenly declared by projection, her vehemence coming across clear as day. What kind of man do you think Adam is?!
"Peace, Tee," Adam said to the air. "You can't blame him for worrying."
Worrying I can forgive. Insulting you is…
"Peace," Adam repeated, voice far firmer than Duncan was used to hearing. "He's not insulting me, certainly not by implication. Are you, Duncan?"
"No," the older man ultimately agreed. "But that still doesn't explain what…"
"It was dye we mixed from bluebonnets, wood ash and water." Adam let him chew on this for a spell, then continued saying "We needed something that could be mixed quickly, and would be longer-lasting than ordinary ink. Bluebonnets were the best option at hand."
"Then what was with all her tears and moaning, eh? What was that from?"
Father, Teela put in. Do you really want us to say it? Duncan scowled hard, flushing again and needing to focus on the floor. Clearly, no, he did not want them to either say it or even think about it.
"You know the histories as well as I do, Duncan," the Prince stated flatly. "There's a reason totemics aren't taught in school, at least in Primaries. Oath, even the Academy has to restrict the topic to the fourth years lest…"
"Lest children get ideas that children should not be having, never mind trying," Duncan nodded tiredly. Totemic sorcery was from a wilder, more primal time, and drew upon the oldest and basest of energies of life. Few practiced anymore, much of Eternia having 'civilized' itself into something less receptive of those energies. Those few who did were the subject of bawdy tavern tales and the lewdest innuendo; Duncan did not care to think what would happen when it got around that the Captain of the Guard was in the service of such Forces. He fairly shuddered to think how Marlena and Teelana would react.
Were she listening in, the Guardian of Grayskull was holding her peace in this for now. It was equally possible Teela's glamour blocked her sight as well as everyone else's, which was another thing to ponder upon, but later.
"I'm sorry you saw that, Duncan. I truly am." Adam sighed and drained his coffee. "I know how unsettling it is to witness it."
"Do you, lad?"
"Yes," the Prince said levelly, eyes hard as stone. "I know exactly what it's like." What could one say to something like that? Duncan elected for silence, staring instead into his coffee mug, looking for some cosmic wisdom in the inky dark.
"Duncan?" Adam finally broke the silence between them. "Did you have something you wanted to discuss?"
"Eh? Ah, yes. Yes, I did. The Open Summer Court…"
Adam sat back with a small chuckle. "Elders, I'd forgotten that was coming now."
"Maureen, your mother's Maid, is handling the preparations…"
"Not alone, I trust?" Duncan was struck once more by the hard tone in the Prince's voice; again, it was a command and not a simple query or suggestion. He needed a moment to rally his nerves before answering.
"I'm not sure," was the honest answer, and the Prince seemed to deflate a bit at the response.
Adam rubbed his forehead and said "I apologize, Duncan." He heaved a tired sigh. "I think I've gotten too used to…" The Prince shook his head and met his friend's eyes. "You were saying, before I rudely interrupted?"
"Maureen is wondering if you plan to attend."
"Of course," Adam frowned. "Why wouldn't I?" Duncan flicked his eyes towards his lame arm, then raised an eyebrow. "Ah, yes. I can see where she'd worry there." Adam sucked his teeth for a moment and asked "What does the Court know?"
Duncan could naught but roll his eyes in disgust. "It knows nothing, and therefore invents its own reality. You and Teela are dead by assassins. Or exiled for marriage without the King's blessing. Or bespelled by who-knows-what. Or you're dead and Teela carries your child. Or Teela's dead and you're insane with grief. Or you've abandoned the castle and the Throne entirely. Or Teela has killed you in a jealous rage and she's interred in the dungeon." He snorted again. "I won't go into the more ridiculous ones, thank you. Its…its…" Words failed him, shaking his head in true despair.
"Mother? Father?"
"You mother is recovered, mostly."
"Mostly?"
"She's up and out of bed; that much I know. Beyond that?" Duncan frowned. "Your father is…attending to matters, but he refuses to speak about you, which as you can imagine just fuels more rumors."
"I'm sure, I'm sure." There was nothing flippant how the Prince waved it off. Rather, he cradled his face in his hand and muttered an ugly oath. "Exactly how angry is he?" There was no need to elaborate on who "he" was nor the source of the anger in question.
"He's...angry. More with me and himself than with you, I'll wager." Adam gave him a look of mild disbelief. "He understands you were under prohibition from the Elders."
"We both were."
"Your father's outlook is a bit more complicated. As I'm sworn to him...well..."
"In his mind that overrides everything," Adam finished for him. "Not all that complicated. How does that translate into anger with himself?"
"Let's be honest, Adam, all Grayskull did was add a few pounds of muscle and darken your skin a few shades. Beyond that, you and He-Man are almost perfect twins."
"And he never made the connection, did he?" Adam gave a tired chuckle at the irony. "I wonder if anyone ever did."
"I'm fairly certain your mother, her Maid, most of the palace garrison and staff, and at least half of Eternos proper did so." Adam started at him. "That's based on some standing wagers I've learned about amongst the men in the garrison, and a bit of gossiping between Maureen and her fellows I overheard once."
"Eveasdropping, Duncan?"
"All in a good cause," the older man smirked.
"And Teela? What did they make of her?"
"Um," Duncan hummed, clearly uncomfortable with the subject. Adam suspected, rightly, the scene in her room earlier had little to do with it. "She hasn't...done herself any favors, attacking you as she did. And you and your father..."
"I can handle my father," Adam stated flatly. "I asked about Teela."
"She's not as popular with either the guard or the citizens as you'd think."
"Because of me." It was a statement, not a question.
"Because of her treatment of you in recent years," Duncan amended, watching the man across from him wince in a way that bespoke the pain of the heart rather than of the body. "Adam, will she..."
"Will she continue as before? Hardly." Adam looked directly at his mentor, though he seemed to need a moment to summon the nerve to. "You should know I plan to declare for her hand with Formal Intent."
For his part Duncan could just blink and hold himself still, unconsciously awed at the Prince's nerve to maintain level eye-contract between them as he said this. Duncan felt his own gaze waver, and no wonder given the triple-hard pounding his heart was racing with. Part of him knew this had been coming for years, but that knowledge had been drowned out by his natural instincts every parent has. Alas, he reflected, his little girl...wasn't so little anymore. If she'd become a full sorceress, there was little he might do to dissuade or impede her decision.
Why he'd even want to was debatable; where might she find a better match than Adam himself?
"Duncan?" Adam asked, the first hint of uncertainty heard in his voice. Duncan himself had a very good idea where it came from, and what exactly was about to be asked, but declined to give his Prince any ease to reaching that point.
"Hmm?" he hummed instead.
"Will we have your support?"
"Ask me when you ask her, and then you'll have your answer." With that, Duncan gulped down his coffee and stood. "By your leave, Highness?"
Adam frowned and nodded, clearly disturbed by his old friend's sudden formality. No sooner was Duncan at the door than he heard the Prince breath "Coming, dear." He glanced over his shoulder to see the Prince meander to his bedroom, hastily shutting the door behind him lest some passer-by catch sight of anything. Duncan stood there a moment longer, giving himself a hard shake before turning and marching down the hall, no immediate destination in mind.
Ultimately his steps took him to the armory, and more specifically the firing range. It was as good a time as any to test out his new cannon mods, Duncan concluded, and he proceeded to take his frustrations out on countless numbers of targets, more than a few of the featureless silhouettes taking on vaguely familiar features seconds before he blasted them to atoms. It proved…quite cathartic.
TBC...