King Again

                                    

                                          
Jaredeth signed his name at the bottom of the correspondence—the last one for the day, but perhaps the most important. Addressed to Prefect Marius Iscariot in the Divine City. He'd put in as friendly words as he could that the Avaly was cutting ties with the priesthood. Had Avaly the resources, and if the Calamity wasn't at his doorstep, he may have declared war against the Order.
Or perhaps that was the spirit of his ancestors coming through the desk. There were more than a few warmongers in his bloodline. Jaredeth sealed the parchment with wax and slipped it into a canister labeled for the Divine City. The clinks of silverware against china filled the silence as his guests partook in the refreshments brought in from the kitchen.
Well, his cousin, mother and best friend hardly counted as guests. He'd just recounted to them the tale of how he was thrown into the sea, lost his memory and travelled around with Quintus until he got it back—the same tale he'd recounted to the media, but with greater detail. 
"Well son," Genevieve said. "You and I both have the entire country reeling. First treason and now the Calamity. 'Twould seem we're entering an age of turmoil."
"A moment," Jaredeth corrected. "If I have my way, this will be but a moment."
His mother arched a brow. "And you thought you weren't fit to be king. I'm proud of you, son." She set her teacup down and stood. "Well, I believe I'll retire to bed now. You boys don't stay up too late." The former queen stood and breezed out of the office, her footsteps disappearing down the hall.
"I still don't get it," Torrian said. "How did they incapacitate both you and the guards?" He swore softly. "I should've been there. I should've prevented this."
Jaredeth shook his head. "For what it's worth, I'm happy you weren't on that boat. I wouldn't have been able to live with myself if you had died because the Divine City had some vendetta against me."
Edgar swirled the last of his rum around. "I believe it was a combination of things, the biggest being that we didn't expect it. Avalians don't kill their leaders, and this level of treason is unheard of in our history. Even Gladyus, who had us entrench in a needless fifty-year war, wasn't assassinated."
"Of course it would be an outside force that would orchestrate this." Jaredeth stood and stretched the soreness from his limbs. He'd been on his ass for the better part of the afternoon and into the night. He'd only taken a break to go up and kiss Jaliah goodnight.
"And what's this about a bone dragon?" Torrian asked, pacing the length of the room. "The priests gave me nothing but all clear reports this week. Shouldn't they be on top of this?"
Edgar snorted. "The Divine City is useless."
"The most we can do right now is monitor the situation, and keep the country on high alert. At least until we can get some real help. There's someone in Hutton monitoring the cloud. We'll know when it starts moving." Jaredeth gave his friend a reassuring nod. "We'll get through this."
"Would you like me to contact my father?" Edgar asked. "He may be willing to help."
He shook his head. "I'd rather not ask that of him, considering..."
"I know." Edgar breathed a sigh. "What a mess this all is."
Jaredeth couldn't disagree. "Torrian, about your preliminary line of questioning. To what extent do you believe my wife was involved?"
Torrian shrugged. "Based on what we learned from the members of the council, it seemed she was in the crux of it. And I can't ignore how cozy she was with the High Priest. It's possible she could've given him access to the Valkyrie at one point. I have someone going to the private dock tomorrow to investigate."
Jaredeth winced as an icy prickle shot through his chest. Why Elaine? He wondered if she ever really loved him, or if she just loved the idea of him and the power he held. Obsessed with the novelty of being queen, as his mother so eloquently put it.
"What are we going to do about punishment?" Jaredeth asked.
Edgar and Torrian exchanged a glance. 
"The laws are very clear on the punishment for treason, Jaredeth," Torrian said. "I know we throw the word precedent around a lot here, but allowing the people who plotted to kill you to walk away alive would set a dangerous one."
"I know. But if it's possible, I don't want Elaine executed. Yes, what she did was unforgivable, but she's still the mother of my child." Jaredeth couldn't fathom that one day he'd have to tell Jaliah about this. He'd rather not have to say by his authority her mother was executed. 
Edgar sighed. "We'll see."
"I'm going to head up now, but you two are free to stay as long as you like. Just don't destroy my office, please." He stood and took his jacket from the back of the chair.
Torrian swiped the bottle of rum before Edgar could grab it. "Can't make any promises. It's not every day your best friend comes back from the dead."
Edgar saluted him with his cup. "Rest well, your Majesty."
Jaredeth left them to their merriment and walked through the quiet halls up to the top floor. He'd offered Quintus a room not far from his, just around the bend from the stairs. Singing drifted in the hall from behind the wooden doors, and Jaredeth stopped to listen.
Quintus sung of summer time, of green fields brushed with marigolds and lovers kissing under starry skies. His voice was beautiful, deep and warm and smooth. Jaredeth leaned his head against the wall and closed his eyes, let the melody wash over him. 
He shouldn't be standing out here like a creep. Tomorrow would be long and arduous. There was so much he needed to catch up on, so many projects that fell through or were pushed aside in his absence. But in this moment, with Quintus' song filling his head, he felt at peace.
"Are you just going to stand out there?" Quintus asked, cutting his song short.
Jaredeth swore under his breath. He pushed the door open and found Quintus leaning out the window near his bed. The room he'd offered Quintus was usually reserved for diplomats, the onyx suite they called it, because of its dark colour scheme. Which made it perfect for him.
The black sheets on the bed were imported from the south—as were all black textiles in Avaly. The sheer canopy was grey, and the floors were polished redwood. The crackling fireplace in the corner was made of the darkest stone they could find. His father had replaced the generic landscape paintings with more "tasteful" pieces of animals with half-naked people. 
"My apologies. I didn't want to barge in during your quiet time." Jaredeth leaned against the door frame. "How are you liking your accommodations?"
"It's quite nice," Quintus answered. "Better than sleeping in a tent."
He crossed his arms and looked down at his toes. They still needed to talk, but he felt Quintus wasn't ready. "So uh... what did you do with the rest of your day?"
"Reconnaissance around the Cathedral. You don't want me to kill the precious priests, so I need to observe them for a while." He stretched his arms over his head and turned to face him. His hair was mussed up as though it had been wet and air-dried.
Jaredeth nodded. "Well, should you need anything, my room is the next hall over, all the way to the end. Or if I'm not around, you can find Havers."
Still, Quintus wouldn't look at him. "Noted." They lapsed in silence for a few moments, both occupying themselves with something random in the room. For Jaredeth, that meant worrying the little knick on the door frame, no doubt put there by a drunk diplomat.
"Would you like to stay?" Quintus finally asked.
Jaredeth smiled and kicked the door shut. "I'd love to."