"We have gathered enough evidence to conclusively link Phoenix Incorporated to the dumping in sector seven. Indeed, I should say there is enough evidence to push them on obstruction and destruction of evidence, as well. Unfortunately… there is very little to link either of those things back to Kurick himself. Save for the fact that it happened in his company under his nose, nothing outright suggests he either knew about or condoned either of those things, let alone that he was the driving force behind them."
Regis tapped his fingers against the arm of his chair, looking down the length of the council table at Kain Scisco. Six months of investigation, six months of poking and prying and, more recently, actively impeding Phoenix Incorporated's ability to do business, and all they had accomplished was an agreement that the company had dumped illegal waste inside the Wall. That was neither surprising, nor particularly enlightening.
"In your opinion, is it possible for this to have occurred without Kurick's express permission?" Regis asked.
"Honestly, Your Majesty, I don't believe it is. He appears to run a very tight operation. While he concerns himself very little with the inner-workings and his employees, nothing goes on that he doesn't seem to know about. There is no indication that any of his management would be so bold as to do this without him, but we can't seem to trace the orders."
Regis ran one hand over his beard, considering. So Phoenix had done their own clean-up. While Regis had been half-incapacitated by grief, Kurick had been destroying evidence.
He ground his teeth together; the only outward evidence of his annoyance manifest as a jutting of his jaw. That was his own damn fault. Now, however, was not the time to feel sorry for himself. Mistakes had been made, perhaps they had been unavoidable, but that hardly mattered, now. Now he needed to act.
"You have searched all manner of correspondence?" He asked.
"Yes, Sire. My team has been combing through their email servers, company computers, and every scrap of paper we can find. So far nothing has turned up. The waste was theirs, it was dumped by company employees, but to all appearances no one told anyone to do so."
"Confiscate Kurick's computer—even his personal computer, if you must—and have them sift through that," Regis said.
"He won't like that," Kain said. "And I doubt we'll find anything. He's very careful."
Regis rested both his elbows on the arms of his chair and steepled his fingers. "I harbor the same doubts, but we cannot afford to leave a single stone unturned. If nothing else, it will light a fire. Perhaps with due pressure we can encourage him to make a mistake."
"Yes, Sire." Kain bowed.
What they really needed was inside information. An employee who either knew where to look, or still had some sort of email correspondence.
"In the meantime, have your team focus efforts on the employees. Question them individually. With how well Phoenix treats its people, I would be astounded if every one of them was loyal. It may be there are some willing to assist," Regis said.
"I'll have my team cross-reference Phoenix employees with those affected by the dumping and prioritize those. If anyone is going to give up company secrets, it will be someone who has already paid the price."
"Good." Regis gave a short nod. "See it done."
With the conclusion of their meeting, the council rose and bowed, filing out one by one, save Clarus. He watched Regis while Regis watched the closed doors—just staring without really seeing.
He wanted the evidence to connect Kurick to the dumping. Strictly speaking, he didn't need it. He could throw Kurick into jail on only their suspicions, but he didn't intend to. Doubtless, there had been kings in the past who might have done that sort of thing, but Regis worked on facts and if they couldn't procure facts then he would tie his own hands. However sure they were that Kurick was guilty, without the evidence, he walked free. That meant hundreds of people who never saw justice for injuries caused; dozens of deaths where the murderer walked free.
It meant breaking his word to Spero.
"Regis?"
Regis blinked and looked to his friend. "Apologies, Clarus, I was merely thinking."
"We will pin him down," Clarus said.
"We must." Regis pursed his lips. He stared down the empty table for a moment longer before rising to his feet. "Come. What time do we have?"
"Time for lunch." Clarus rose and followed him to the door.
For the first time in months, Regis was inclined to agree with him. He was tired of feeling as if his stomach was turning inside out for hunger and yet finding the mere thought of filling it revolting. He was tired of accepting that there was nothing he could do about it.
"Yes, I believe it is." Regis passed between the double doors of the conference room and turned down the hall. Clarus was looking at him with a furrow in his brow, like he didn't quite believe that Regis meant what he had said. Regis pressed the point. "And I grow tired of soup."
The furrow vanished and Clarus lifted his eyebrows instead. If his hairline hadn't already retreated so far, his brows might have met it.
"Avun." Regis motioned to his attendant, who had been waiting outside the council chamber. "Will you see to it that the dining room is prepared for lunch? We will be two for the meal."
If his attendant was at all surprised, he didn't show it. "Very good, Sire."
Clarus was less restrained.
"Dine with me?" Regis asked, in spite of the look of open surprise on Clarus' face.
"Of course," Clarus responded with only a moment's hesitation.
His surprise was understandable. Like his own bedroom, Regis hadn't been in the dining room since Aulea had passed. Once they had taken meals there regularly; he always made a point to sit down with her at least once during the day, no matter how busy he was, and she often appreciated having an excuse to escape their rooms without being hovered over. Now it was time to banish those ghosts. He doubted he could do it without Clarus.
They crossed the Citadel together, taking a more leisurely pace than Avunculus, who had gone on ahead. When they reached the dining hall, the crownsguards outside pulled the doors opened and they passed into the long room.
Regis halted, feeling the familiar lump stick in his throat. His eyes swept the room, taking in the tall, arching windows in the back wall and the long table of polished ebony. Two chairs sat at the table, one on either end. In spite of his best intentions, he couldn't avoid the pain associated with her empty chair.
"Your Majesty?"
Regis turned at the sound of a familiar voice and found Crea moving down the hall at an awkward pace. She walked half doubled-over, with her hands holding Reina's. Reina, dressed in a blue tulle dress and a miniscule pair of shoes, was toddling along on her own two feet. Four little white teeth showed in her smile and a giggle erupted with every other step.
The shadow of the dining hall vanished. Regis took a knee in the doorway and held his hands out.
"Reina, my dear! Who gave you permission to grow up so quickly?" He beamed.
She squealed, catching sight of him, and in her hurry to reach him faster she left her feet behind and tipped her whole upper body forward. Crea caught her, lifting her off her feet momentarily before setting her back down with the proper orientation.
"Gotta move your feet, Little Princess," Crea said. "No one else is going to do it for you."
"I beg to differ," Regis said. "If she does not succeed soon, I will retrieve her myself."
Crea turned her head up to grin at him. "You'll spoil them rotten, Your Majesty."
"That is my privilege."
Reina finally reached him. She pulled her hands free from Crea's and clutched at Regis' legs, instead. No sooner had her nanny released her than Regis scooped her up into his arms, straightening and holding her over his head.
"Ah, Little Princess, you must stop growing this instant."
She gave another joyous squeal; a gob of baby drool fell from her open mouth and his him squarely on the cheek.
Regis lowered her down, holding her at his hip instead and giving her a reproving look. "My dear, a princess does not drool on her father."
Crea covered a laugh and passed him a handkerchief. "She's already proved you wrong."
"Yes, well…" Regis wiped his face and handed the handkerchief back.
"Sire, your lunch is ready to be served." Avunculus appeared in the doorway to the dining hall.
He had completely forgotten about lunch. It still didn't sound like a terrible idea, but he was never going to put Reina down.
"Will you join us for lunch?" Regis asked Crea. "Or must you return?"
Crea shrugged. "Joyce has Noctis and I doubt she needs me. But I feel I must warn you of two things."
Regis indicated that Avun should have a third spot set at the table before turning back to Crea. "Yes?"
"She will absolutely put her hands in your food, now—she still eats everything."
"Is that so?" He lifted Reina up to eye level, this time taking care not to hold her over his face. "Well, you are welcome to as much of my lunch as you desire, my dear. Or we will simply feed you Clarus' lunch."
He shot Clarus a smile. Clarus, for his part, was looking wholly amused.
"And the second?" Regis asked, resettling Reina on his hip.
"I only own one type of fork, in my house." Crea was watching the servants set a third spot at the long table. There were no less than four forks beside the plate.
Clarus chuckled. "I'm sure we can set you straight."
Salad arrived once they were all—including Reina in Regis' lap—seated. To Regis' right, Crea inspected the series of flatware arranged beside her plate. He cleared his throat to attract her attention, then picked up his own salad fork with deliberation.
"Does it really make a difference?" She asked, copying him and inspecting the fork.
"The salad fork has a thicker left tine with a notch, designed to cut food that does not require a knife; the fish fork has wider, flatter tines to aid in lifting flakey fish without losing half of it; the dinner fork—" He stopped, catching the look on her face. "No. It makes no difference at all."
"That's what I thought." She took a bite of her salad, though he noted she did use the correct fork.
"When do they walk unassisted?" Clarus asked.
"Don't you have a son?" Crea answered his question with a question.
Reina fixed big eyes on Regis' plate and made a grab for a slice of tomato. It took her three tries to pick it up between thumb and forefinger before it moved toward her mouth.
"Don't let her put that whole thing in her mouth, Your Majesty," Crea said.
It was just as well she gave some instruction. Regis had been full prepared to let Reina do whatever she liked, but he caught the tomato before she had more than a corner of it in her mouth, and took it away. Reina whined.
"I do," Clarus confirmed.
Regis moved his plate away from the edge of the table as Reina grabbed for the tomato again. She leaned forward as far as she was able and, finding it still out of reach, pounded her hand against the table and cried. Regis looked up at Crea, entreating. She lifted her napkin to her lips, a poor effort to hide her growing smile, and motioned to the servant standing at her elbow.
"Would you bring a small plate for His Majesty?" The servant bobbed respectfully and hurried to do as she was bidden. To Clarus, Crea added: "And I take it your son walks?"
"He does walk," Clarus agreed. "And he did not when he came out, so sometime between birth and three years, he has learned to walk. That's about all I can say."
Regis gave him a reproachful look across the table.
"I daresay you'll forget when they began to walk in a few years, as well," Clarus said dryly.
The extra plate arrived. Reina grabbed it immediately and Regis was forced to move that, as well, lest it end up as shards on the floor.
"If you cut the tomato in small pieces, she'll eat them," Crea said.
Regis did as she instructed, putting the baby bite-sized pieces of tomato on the spare plate and letting her grab them. Her fussing ceased. She ate meticulously, one piece of tomato at a time, unconcerned with the rest of the world.
"It depends on the child," Crea said at last. "Some don't walk until well after a year old, but the twins are moving that direction fast. Probably in a couple more months they'll be able to walk on their own."
"Then you shall be an unstoppable force, my dear," Regis told Reina.
Crea laughed. "She's already an unstoppable force, Your Majesty. Her and Noctis both know what they want and get it themselves—and if that's not enough, they have a father who can and will give them everything else."
Regis smiled. "The perks of being royalty."
For now, at least, neither child had any idea what royalty was, let alone that they were it.
"You are going to spoil them, aren't you?" Clarus asked.
"Completely rotten." Regis beamed at the child in his lap and added another tomato to her plate. If he was forced to let someone else raise his children in his stead, the least he could do was bribe them shamelessly until they loved him best of all.
From there, the meal progressed in as much peace as can be expected, with a nine-month-old at the table. They chatted, distracted Reina with soft, bite-sized foods, and teased Crea gently about forks. Not once throughout did Regis find the change of company unfavorable. True, Clarus' chair was usually occupied by Aulea, and as much as Regis would have traded to have her back he couldn't bemoan the addition of his daughter at the lunch table.