Page 133 of The White King's Favorite

“...I’ll do my best to save my people,” he said, water dripping down his chin, “but I need you all to listen to me. To us, for the time being. I promise I’ll do what I can to help you all.”

Cessilia was staring at him, an indescribable feeling of pride in her heart. It was the first time she was seeing Ashen interact with his people, with the common folk, and he was nothing like he was with the Clan Leaders and nobles. He was drenched, his shoulders low and cold, but he had never looked more magnificent in her eyes. This was the real Ashen, the Ashen who had grown up in the streets of Aestara and fought to free them from his father’s tyranny.

In front of them, the crowd seemed at a loss of what to do, exchanging whispers between them and sending doubtful glances to their monarch. Cessilia stepped forward.

“We are b-bringing tea and food,” she said in a loud voice, “b-but no one will get anything if we c-can’t distribute them. P-please be patient a little b-bit longer!”

She glanced around to see if anyone was going to protest, but the mention of warm food and drinks sparked a light of hope in many eyes. The King himself had come, and the situation was looking much brighter now, so the crowd had ceased to protest for a short while.

The rain itself wasn’t going to kill these people. They were scared of drowning or getting sick. The solution to the second problem was on the way, but the first one was the priority for now. There was way too much water starting to flood the streets of the Outer Capital. Soon, not even the buildings would be safe, the water was going to start getting in. Cessilia looked around, trying to find a solution. The ground was slightly inclined toward the river and the edge where the walls had been erected. That was the main problem. Because the water couldn’t be evacuated naturally, the whole area was turning into a reservoir. Cessilia frowned and turned to Ashen.

“We have to t-tear down the wall.”

The King frowned, immediately conflicted. He didn’t like the idea. Those walls had been built to prevent people from finding ways to cross over the bridge or cheat their way inside the Capital. If they broke some of it, they might be opening a large breach into a lot more troubles later.

He looked around. Sadly, right now, there was no other solution on the table. The water was rising fast, and all the people in front of them were in danger. Perhaps a couple more hours and the water would start swallowing people, and getting inside the buildings. They had to do something while they could, or there would be no way to calm the furious crowd, and that would be a much more pressing issue. His eyes met with those of the terrified children, clinging to their parents and crying loudly. He had once been as helpless as them. He had been scared of dying, of hunger, of the cold. He had been scared for his mother, and his younger brothers, and watched helplessly as they were taken away by disease.

Ashen took a deep breath, and turned around, staring at the large closed doors. Taking down the wall, even a portion of it, would take too long, but they could win time before that. He glanced back at the crowd, and his dark eyes darkened.

“I’m going to open the doors,” he said, “...but no one shall come in.”

Immediately, a concert of protests started loudly. People had been waiting for days, weeks, and even months for those doors to open for them and their families. Now, the King was going to open them, but they couldn’t cross, even in such a situation? This was too much. The shouts at the King got louder, but Ashen wouldn’t budge. He stared at the crowd, with his dark eyes, not afraid. Cessilia wasn’t as confident. His popularity was already not what it once was, and now, it was almost a provocation to open those doors and trust these people not to force their way through. The only thing scarier than a natural disaster was an angry mob. Ashen was facing hundreds of people, and this time, no one could help him. This was not a situation that a dragon, brute force, or money could solve. Cessilia couldn’t step in, either, which made her feel even more sorry for him. But those people were Ashen’s people. She was still only a foreign princess.

“You can’t keep us here! We’re all going to die!” the angry crowd roared. “Let us through!”

“No,” Ashen retorted, calm but loudly, “or do you people want another civil war?”

Those last two words calmed them almost instantly. There wasn’t a single person here who had forgotten the nightmare before the White King rose to his seat. Some were hesitant, or doubtful, the cold and anger making them lose part of their rationality, but many knew their current situation would come to pass if they waited, perhaps in a matter of hours. They all knew a civil war could last much, much longer than that.

“...There’s really nothing ready to welcome you in the Inner Capital,” Ashen continued, “but we are bringing the basic necessities to you. If you force your way in, not only will you not get anything, but people might die in meaningless fights.

“Who says you’ll help us?!” someone shouted. “You’ve been keeping us out of the Capital for so long!”

“I’ve been doing what I can!” Ashen roared back. “...And I know it’s not enough. But right now, this is what it is. I swear we’ll do what we can and save everyone we can. I’ll do anything I need to.”

The crowd hesitated, but before anyone could protest again, a large man made his way to the front. His large frame was intimidating, and he was standing half a head above everyone else, with a large beard and small eyes, which were riveted on the King. He was carrying a large ax too, although his apron seemed to indicate he was some sort of blacksmith, not a fighter. He stepped forward, detaching himself from the crowd to face Ashen, his bushy eyebrows knitted together.

“I remember a boy who once stood with us,” he said, his loud voice reaching everyone. “Back then, there was a bad king in this castle and war everywhere. My family was scared, like everyone. I lost two brothers, my sisters-in-law, and four of my nephews and nieces to that bad King. Not many people were brave enough to fight the King’s soldiers, but there was a boy who did. That boy was brave, as brave as any man I’ve met.”

He was standing, tall as a mountain, and staring very seriously at Ashen. From the odd accent in his voice and the strange hairdo with feathers braided in his hair, Cessilia suspected he belonged to one of the smaller families. He had a few people standing behind him and glancing at him as if he was their leader of some sort, and a young girl was standing behind his leg. In fact, as her eyes kept going around, Cessilia noticed several more groups of people who seemed to have similar distinctive traits from the others. Some of them had tattoos of little black dots and lines on their bodies, including their faces, or scarifying marks. Others had unique hairstyles or unique kinds of jewelry. So many people belonged to families she hadn’t heard of before...

“Is there... anything left of that boy we trusted?” asked the man. “I won’t follow a greedy and cruel king. But I will listen to that boy once more.”

Cessilia turned her eyes to Ashen. He looked a bit surprised to be reminded of his past in such a way, but after all, it hadn’t been so long for those people since the seemingly dead Prince had come back to take his tyrant father down from the Eastern Kingdom’s throne. For those people, the memories of his battles and honesty were still fresh enough to give him the benefit of the doubt, and thanks to that bearded man, even those who had forgotten were now reminded of this.

Ashen took a deep breath and stepped back, not away from the man, but closer to the doors.

“...I am that boy. And I am your King. Now, whether you agree with me or not...”

He turned around and began pushing the doors. Those doors were large and heavy. They normally took a whole mechanism to be opened, and at least one man for each door. Yet, the King only had one hand pushing against each door. They saw him use all of his core, arm, and back muscles, struggle for half a second, and slowly, he opened the large doors. As predicted, the water went flowing out through the bridge’s arches, decreasing on the side they were standing on. Cessilia turned to the people, all stunned by the King’s strength, and bearing. She felt a little bit proud. Despite the situation, those people admired Ashen. Indeed, they knew what he had once done for this Kingdom, and weren’t ready quite yet to mob against him.

Once the doors were opened, Ashen turned around, his chest going up and down with his heavy breathing. He stared at the crowd as if daring them to defy him.

However, nobody moved. Many people had their eyes riveted on the bridge, but the anger from earlier had definitely been subdued. Instead, after a couple of seconds, some of those eyes lit up.

“Look!” exclaimed a young man.

From the other end of the bridge, people were advancing, heading toward this side. Cessilia ran to Ashen’s side, and quickly found relief. The Dorosef Tribe! She recognized a few of Nana’s cousins, who were braving the downpour to pull a large cart. Soon enough, they arrived, drenched, but looking around. The young woman she recognized from the Fish Market ran to them first.

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