Page 29 of Aubade Rising
“So, it’s my fault that I got attacked by rebels and kidnapped then?” An insufferable smile dances across his lips and makesme want to smack it right off him. Where has this violence come from?
He looks round the room and notices the disarray. “You really are going then?”
“Of course. I need serpentine for my research. It’s essential.”
“Are you going to tell me what the research is about? I noticed you were rather light on specifics in the meeting…”
I stand mutely. This is why I didn’t ask him for his approval beforehand.
“You’ll know if I lie; it’s better I don’t say anything at all.”
His head tilts in surprise and his body tenses.
“You said you trust me. When I have something to share, I will.” I hope the benefits outweigh the fact that I’ve broken the Difan right under his nose. Although, the reaction from the other Mordros is what I fear most; they won’t all be as accepting as Dervla. With the magic imbalance removed, their hold on power might become more tenuous, not less, and all I will have done is incite a civil war. A shudder runs through me before the King interrupts my train of thought.
“You could send someone else.” He flicks a piece of dust off his shirt, both of us avoiding each other’s gaze.
“And stay holed up in the palace for the foreseeable future? I accepted the escorts into the city before but now I’m not permitted to go into Pentargon in case of another abduction attempt. I’m useless here.”
“You’re in more danger outside of the city, unprotected.”
“I’ll be another traveller; no one will recognise or notice me. Besides, you said it was a democracy and the Concord voted. You can’t stop me.”
He sighs dramatically, emerald eyes darting about the room.
If it was anyone other than the King, I’d say he was looking for another reason to stay…
“I wanted to ask what you thought of my address this year.I assumed that even if you couldn’t be bothered to attend the parade with the other members of the Concord, you would be in the crowd. I was certain you’d seek me out afterwards.” He sounds hurt, as if my opinion matters to him. He’s a good actor then – I’ll give him that.
“Your address? I was there but I couldn’t hear a word you said. No one in the crowd could. Then I was slightly preoccupied. Trying to recover from a concussion and attempted abduction.” I slam closed the books I’m taking and stuff them into my bulging rucksack.
“But you’re recovered now. Aren’t you the least bit interested in what was said?” I notice a bit of anger slipping through his diplomatic mask.
“Absolutely not,” I snap. “This might come as a bit of a surprise to you but no ordinary people actually give a damn about your address. It’s always been irrelevant to our daily lives and is just an excuse for the Mordros to throw another party.” It’s a small exaggeration but it gets my point across.
“What on earth are you talking about? I’m the King.”
This frustrating man! I throw my final pieces of clothing into a bag, turning to face him. “You may be king in name but you are as cut off as possible from your subjects. You have no interest in their lives. Their troubles. Their heartbreak. You surround yourself with advisors as privileged as you are and let them lead on all the decisions, even when they go round and round in circles with nothing ever decided upon or any change committed to. You may consider yourself above politics but nobody else is. Influence is traded every night over dinner and you are conspicuously absent. You’re a figurehead at best and an ignorant, conceited aristocrat at worst.”
The colour drains from the king’s face as I finish my tirade and his mouth is set in a firm line as he stands to leave.
“I see. Thank you for sharing your perspective so eloquently. Ishall leave you be.” He strides purposefully to the door, no sign of anger but it’s clear from the waves of displeasure rolling off him that I’ve overstepped, massively.
As he opens the door to leave, Eskar appears in the doorway, hand raised and about to knock. The two men face off.
The King breaks the silence first. “If you’ve come to try and dissuade her from leaving, you’ll be wasting your time. She’s quite determined.” I glare intimidatingly at his back but he refuses to turn around.
Eskar responds, “Actually, given the importance of this journey, and the risk to Sage’s life, I’m volunteering as her escort.” His gaze passes by the King and his caramel eyes hold me in place.
A staring match begins between the King and Eskar, with the rest of us observing awkwardly, guards shuffling their feet. When I’m about to interrupt to break the tension, the King laughs cruelly and says, “Very well then. Enjoy gallivanting about my kingdom.”
He walks down the corridor, guards following like shadows.
“I’d planned to speak to you about the expedition beforehand but it took longer than I planned to get my affairs in order. I’ve booked a ticket on the same ferry to Cathair in the morning, if that’s alright with you?”
I huff; travelling alone had felt daunting but I’m still too rattled from losing my temper with the King to thank Eskar for volunteering. His magic and training will provide protection and, as long as we aren’t recognised, it should make my journey easier.
The next morning, I make my goodbyes, leaving Dervla until last. We stand by the ferry, sprayed by water from the ocean,blown in on a strong gale. Kaens takes her usual place on Dervla’s shoulder, her head tucked under a wing to stay dry. I’m consciously ignoring the rocking of the boat which is packed with provisions to last until Cathair. Every cabin is booked and the ferry sits lower in the water than I would like. Compared to the vast sea beyond the archipelago, the vessel feels rickety and small. Before I board, I ask Dervla about the address and she grimaces; apparently the King made a change from tradition after all.
