Page 18 of Aubade Rising
He’s funny – like normal person funny – and I don’t know why I’m so surprised. I turn back towards him intrigued.
He gestures to the water in front of him, challenging me. I truly have nothing else to do other than wander in the rain avoiding my responsibilities so when I see a smooth stone under the water that will make a good seat, I reconsider. My clothes are already soaked through so I guess it won’t matter if I wade in. I’m certainly not getting undressed in front of the King.
Stepping into the water, it’s as cold as I feared. I won’t be in here long. I ease my way over to the stone, slipping several times before I take a seat, feet seized from the cold and unreliable. The further I venture into the running water, the higher the King’s eyebrows rise and I see a glimpse of a smile and, before he can wipe his face clean of emotion, I settle facing him.
A violent shiver wracks my whole frame; the parts of me submerged in the river are quickly leaching my body heat and I worry for a moment about catching hypothermia. I narrow my eyes at the King when I see he looks rosy and warm. Gradually, a prickling sensation tickles my toes. The water touching my body warms until steam rises from my clothes.
“Don’t move,” he says. “I’m only keeping a thin layer of wateraround you warm.” It’s too late. I squeal as icy cold water pours down my back; more hits me as I squirm.
“I warned you.” He throws his head back and laughs and then he’s hit by the cold water too. I get the giggles at the sight of the King of Trevesiga desperately trying not to swear at the cold water, which scrapes like knives along his skin as he fidgets.
Eventually I find I can talk, provided I hold my body completely still under the water and lower myself until I’m submerged to my neck, the current ebbing away to nothing. The warmth is delicious, easing my aching muscles and wiping away the stress of burnout.
“So, what’s brought on the need to come here and escape,” I ask, feeling bold.
He sighs and looks to the skies. “Endless meetings and trying to understand how to dismantle my father’s legacy, coupled with the threat of the rebels.” He tilts his head back wearily and blinks the raindrops away as they fall onto his eyes. “Nothing insurmountable but you’ve seen how resistant the Concord is to change. I should have pushed to be involved before, but how could I sit there being overlooked at every opportunity. Humiliating. But change is proving exceptionally difficult. Particularly without an Almanac.”
I don’t miss the arch look he gives me, as if I hold the blame. My body tenses and my breathing quickens. It takes me a moment to refocus on the clear water in front of me, the grey sky above. Anything to keep myself present and tell my body I’m not stuck underground with that monster, Lord Bal – I’m safe.
The water now feels like a dead weight, constricting my chest. My lungs suck air painfully as I blink away burning tears, my magic fights for release.
“Have you heard anything from him…”
“No, and I don’t expect to. He’s exiled, probably hiding far away. Hopefully causing trouble in another kingdom.” Panicgives way to irritation at his emotionless tone, his expression haughty and arrogant.
“WelI, I’m so sorry to cause you such an inconvenience,” I bite back, staring him down to be sure he feels the burn from my caustic words.
He rolls his eyes, returning to his thoughts and I observe little fish swimming between us.
“Is it awful that I’m a little jealous of his exile? I’ve never left Chi An Mor. My father kept me prisoner. For my own safety. No one can come to harm within the palace walls, except in the dungeons underground, of course.” His gaze is level; this is as close to an apology as I suspect he can manage. It leaves a lot to be desired. “Now I’m charged with running a kingdom I know nothing about.”
I’m shocked at his confession and pity his narrow existence. It puts having to have an escort in the city into perspective.
“I committed to being nothing like my father. I vowed not to be a dictator and to give people choices but…”
His sentence doesn’t need to be finished. I think he lives in such fear of becoming his father that he’s risking the stability of the whole of Trevesiga. I’m surprised when he interrupts the silence.
“What’s worse? Perpetual problems ruling by committee, or a dictatorship?” Perhaps he does understand what he’s risking after all.
The water levels sluggishly rise as the rain continues. I watch them, taking my time to answer. The stench of damp moss is overriding the scent of petrichor. Neither appeals. “The world is not always so black and white – you could rule for decades more. Make executive decisions that will win you favour with the people, with your Concord. Then I suspect people will follow your lead when it comes to the committees…” Satisfied with my response, I lean back into the warm water, eyes closed, letting it soothe me.
The pause in conversation lengthens. I sneak a glance at the King and flinch when I see those verdant eyes pinning me in place. His face is predatory and I resist the urge to back away, to run back to my warm, dry rooms.
“Who taught you about power?” His icy whisper travels down my spine.
I shrug off the impact of his stare and break eye contact, examining my shrivelled fingers. “It’s the intelligent response.”
Sensing the conversation is over, I pick my way to the riverbank and haul myself out. Concern for my family surfaces as I see the water lapping at the underside of the stone bridge. “The spring floods. You know they’re coming soon.” I point to the water rushing over the cobbles. “That’s where I’d start. Protect all of Pentargon and then maybe people will trust you to protect them from the Kevren Gwir.”
Chapter 17
I’m not exactly in the best of moods as I make my way through the soaked lawns back up to the palace. My whole body is wracked with shivers and I wrap my arms tightly across my chest, attempting to preserve what little warmth I have remaining.
I’m nearly at the entrance to the palace, craving the warmth of my rooms, desperate to dry my toes on the heated floor, when I’m interrupted by Captain Devath, lurking in the entryway.
“About time.” He surveys my dishevelled form and smirks as I drip water on the stone steps.
“Why are you waiting here?” I’m not in the mood to deal with his mercurial behaviour right now.
