Outside, the sun set on the Insomnian skyline, transforming the city into a spectacular, backlit silhouette. Clarus should have returned, by then. He had been conspicuous in his absence since noon, and Regis was beginning to grow concerned.
Regis paced the length of his study, his hands clasped behind his back. Where was he? Was he avoiding Regis on purpose, or had time simply gotten away from him? It must have been ten years since the last time they had rowed badly enough for Clarus to intentionally keep away. Perhaps he thought Regis wanted him away. After all, he had been both rude and childish the night before.
What was I thinking? Regis cursed himself mentally, stopping at the window to watch the setting sun, though he hardly saw it.
Another, similarly concerning, possibility was that Clarus had simply gone without him. He had said that Regis could accompany him if he liked, but then everything else had happened and if he had already concluded that Regis wouldn't come, who would have blamed him?
If only he hadn't been so foolish!
Now he was left with the choice to send someone to find Clarus or avoid going altogether. It was tempting not to act. He could remain there in his office for one more day without venturing out into the grounds and facing the mausoleum. All he had to do was nothing at all.
He shut his eyes, taking a deep breath before he turned toward the door. He could do this. A few steps to the door, then a few words to the attendant outside; that was all it would take. After that… well, he would deal with after when it came. One thing at a time. One foot in front of the other.
It shouldn't have been so hard to just open the door and call for Clarus. Reality didn't care much what he thought, it seemed.
Regis stopped at the door, still staring at the handle.
For the Gods' sake, he cursed himself again and threw the door open.
Avunculus stood outside, still. That meant Weskham was absent, as well. Where had he gone? Were they both avoiding him? Or were they closed up in a vacant conference room, discussing what to do about their wayward king?
He didn't need to draw attention to himself before speaking; Avunculus was already looking expectantly at him. "Will you send for Clarus, please? At his earliest possible convenience."
"Of course, Sire." Avunculus bowed and swept away without delay.
Regis withdrew back into his office, intending to wait patiently. It didn't work out that way.
He resumed his pacing. Eleven swift steps took him along the length of the back wall. His shoes swivelled smoothly on the tile floor and another eleven took him back.
What if they didn't find him? What if he was already gone?
The more he thought of it, the more he hoped this would be the case. If Clarus didn't arrive then he didn't have to face him. If he didn't have to face him then he never had to go to the mausoleum, he never had to explain himself, and everything would smooth over in a day or two.
What if they did find him? He would come in and stand there looking expectant. Regis wouldn't be able to find the words. That much he was certain of.
It was less than fifteen minutes by the clock on the mantle before a knock came to the door. Regis immediately ceased his pacing.
"Enter."
Clarus entered and Regis couldn't say whether he was relieved or not. Now he had to decide what to say.
Just as Regis had expected, Clarus didn't say a word. He stepped inside, letting Avunculus close the door behind him, and fixed Regis with a level stare. He was upset. Worse, still, he had ever right to be. If only Regis could piece things back together as easily as he had torn them apart.
"Clarus…" Regis hesitated, meeting Clarus' impassive gaze for only a moment before he lowered his eyes. There were no two ways about it. He would just have to say it. "Have you been, yet?"
"Been where? What are you talking about?"
Regis swallowed hard and looked up again. Clarus couldn't have made this just a little bit easier? No. Of course not. He wanted Regis to admit it openly and explicitly. No more avoiding the subject, no more suggestions.
"To Aulea's tomb," Regis said.
Clarus looked taken aback, as if he hadn't expected this at all. Wasn't that what he had wanted?
"No, not yet. I thought—before dinner—but… have you changed your mind?"
I must have lost my mind, Regis thought.
"Yes," he said, instead, but his voice came out high and strangled. He couldn't believe he had said it, himself. Go to Aulea's tomb? Visit that black and terrible place after he had spent months running from it?
Clarus took a halting step forward, hesitated for a beat, then continued. For a moment, Regis thought Clarus was just going to grasp his shoulder; instead, Clarus pulled him into a bear hug. Regis made a sound of surprise, his arms pinned to his sides. It wouldn't have surprised him if Clarus had lifted him off his feet, just to add to the bone-crushing sensation, but, thankfully, his feet remained on solid ground.
"Are you sure you want me there?" Clarus asked at length.
Regis could hardly breathe for being embraced, but he managed to squeeze out a few words. "I cannot do it without you."
Finally, Clarus released him. Mostly. He stepped back with his hands on Regis' shoulders and studied him. "Then I will be by your side. As always."
Regis grasped Clarus' arm and squeezed, giving him a tight-lipped smile. "I know."
"Come then. Let's go." Clarus released his shoulders and ushered him toward the door.
Now it was all out in the open; now he was to be held accountable for his words and there would be no turning back. Clarus wouldn't let him.
It was colder inside than Regis remembered. Maybe it was just the weather, but he half wanted to flee just as soon as they had set foot inside that accursed place. That could have been cowardice, though. In fact, it was likely cowardice.
Regis didn't let himself hesitate in the doorway. If he did, he would never take another step.
Inside, the mausoleum was full of thick silence, broken only by the echo of his footfalls. This was the place where the Caelums—the most modern Caelums—were laid to rest. Some kings of old had their tombs spread about Lucis. Once upon a time the locations had been strategic: they were guardians of their kingdom, even in death, scattered through the land. By this age, most meaning had been lost and most of the more recent kings were simply laid to rest inside Insomnia, alongside their family.
The oldest were in the front. Regis passed them by, one by one, counting off names of ancestors he hardly knew he had. Brass name plates marked the walls in a grid. Those were the supposedly less-important people: the wives, the siblings who never wore the crown. On the floor were the grand sarcophagi of past kings, each adorned with a likeness, carved in stone, of its occupant.
Regis passed them all by, his fingers brushing stone and metal until the names grew familiar. From the last sarcophagus, his father's face in stone stared up at him. The final resting place of Mors Lucis Caelum. An empty space lay beside him; a potent reminder of where Regis fit in the grand scheme of things.
But here was a mistake.
Those of greatest importance were meant to reside on the floor, where they couldn't be missed by any visitors. Yet she was sealed behind the wall to the left.
She should have been there, in the empty space that was meant to be his.
Regis stopped short of the plaque.
Aulea Caelum
Beloved Queen
706 - 735
It was just as terrible as it had been months ago. This time, though, there weren't even any flowers. Each name plate held a vase; they were all empty, now, every single one in the mausoleum. Most of the occupants of the tombs had long since faded from the memories of anyone still living. Yet here was Aulea. Her husband, her children, her friends survived her, still, but she was forgotten, already.
I meant to forget, Regis realized. I tried extraordinarily hard.
He shut his burning eyes. How could he do that to her? How could he do that to them? Of all the things she would have wanted… she would have certainly expected him to remember her. Was that so hard?
But the truth was that it was hard. It was more difficult than anything he had yet accomplished.
That was a poor reason not to do it, however.
"I ought have brought something for her…" Regis opened his eyes. They fixed immediately on Aulea's name, again, though he spoke to Clarus.
Clarus stepped forward, touching his arm. When Regis managed to pull his eyes from her plaque, it was to find his friend holding out a handful of flowers.
"You—" His eyes flicked to Clarus' face. Where had he found those? When had he found them? Surely, his hands had been empty when they left the castle together. Regis decided not to ask. It didn't matter much, anyway. What mattered was that Clarus was there and he had, once again, thought of what Regis had neglected. "Thank you."
He took the flowers and stepped forward to arrange them in the vase. They were Chionodoxa; Regis only knew the name because she had told him. Her favorite flower. He was surprised Clarus remembered, but, then again, she had always been outspoken with her opinions.
The little purple-blue flowers bloomed in early spring, sprouting up from beneath the snow and bringing the first hint of warmth and life back to Insomnia after a cold winter. She always wanted to go out and see them, every year. Even when she wasn't well, she went out in spite of the cold. Except, this year, she had no chance.
Flowers settled, Regis traced his fingers over the clean-cut block lettering of her name. Four months he had spent trying not to think of her, selfishly trying to avoid the pain by pretending it had no source. No more.
"Forgive me, my love," he whispered. "I never meant to neglect you."
He leaned against the wall, letting his head tip forward and feeling the stone cool against his forehead.
"I miss you so much… I thought, perhaps, the hole might be more bearable if I avoided it." He shut his eyes and let the words fall out. Words he had told Clarus he wasn't going to say. Words he had told himself he wasn't going to say. "It did no good. Indeed, it did more harm than good."
"I have rather made a mess of things. Still, after all this time, I know not how to carry on without you. We spent too long together, you know." His palm pressed flat against the metal of the plate. Somehow it felt like he was closer to her, that way.
Only a shell remains, the bitter voice in the back of his head reminded him.
He pushed it away.
"I cannot recall a time when we were not together. You… you are in all my oldest memories. My greatest memories." He dragged his fingers over the metal, catching the edge and digging his fingernails into it. "And now I cannot make myself believe that there will ever be another great memory. All that joy is in my past."
Regis clenched his teeth and shut his eyes, fighting the tears that welled. Before his shut eyed, images played:
Aulea crouched in the snow, wrapped in a robe but barefoot because she had sneaked from their rooms against her doctor's instructions. He had searched high and low before finding her there, but when he had, all harsh words had died on his lips. Her fingers brushed the pale blue petals of Chionodoxa. She had smiled up at him and he had forgotten to scold her.
Aulea stretched out in the bed, fast asleep as he slipped away to attend a morning council. She had been half his size and somehow she had always taken up three-quarters of the bed. Even then, the blankets had twisted up around her from nighttime shifting. It had been a small miracle she had never woken herself. Only him.
Aulea wearing a white dress with little lace flowers running down the back and pooling at her feet. White flowers crowned her. The tears sparkled in her eyes and caught on her lashes while she beamed at him. He had never seen her so happy as she had been that day.
The tears Regis had been fighting spilled from his eyes. He clutched at the nameplate as if he would tear it off the wall to reach her body. His shoulders shook, but no sound escaped him.
He had no concept of the time he spent standing there, pressed against the wall that Aulea was sealed behind. He didn't hear when Clarus slipped away to give him the time for himself. Indeed, he had all but forgotten that anyone else was there with him in the first place.