Page 14 of The Moon Blessed King
‘I don’t want to talk.’
‘All right.’
‘Anything that has to do with Alelune: your brother, mother, the war – anything like that, put in that pile there.’
‘There could be secrets here, no? Are you sure you want me reading these?’
‘If this is going to work then there will be no secrets between us,’ Elician snaps, apologizing almost immediately afterwards for the fierceness of his tone. Cat doesn’t seem to have taken offence, though.
He picks up the book nearest them, saying only: ‘You’re right, there should be no secrets.’ And the slightest change in his delivery takes all the sting from the barb and engenders a feeling far closer to shame in Elician’s chest. ‘There’s someone I’m looking for,’ Cat says, thumbing through the pages. ‘One of my Reapers was sent from Alerae to murder your father. I never saw her again. No one, it seems, has seen her again.’
Elician’s jaw clenches. Another person whose life his father ruined. ‘I haven’t seen anything about a Reaper,’ he says. ‘But you can search those if you want.’ Cat nods and settles into place amongst the paperwork.
That night, Elician doesn’t even remember closing his eyes whenhe falls asleep. He simply wakes, head resting on his arms on his desk, Cat dozing not far away. Paperwork all around.
The next day it happens again. And again. And again. Elician doesn’t sleep in the King’s room, isolated and silent and kept far away from the life and sound of the people, and Cat never once suggests he try. The window to the King’s office always stays open, and Elician breathes in each fresh breath of air and tries to pretend that he is all right. They don’t find Cat’s Reaper, but somehow, slowly, they start making sense of the kingdom that Aliamon has left behind.
They make a good team, Elician realizes at the end of the first week. With Cat’s help, Elician wrangles his father’s office into something he can tolerate using on a daily basis. Productivity flows from there. He sends riders out to summon the lords and ladies of his country back to court for both the coronation and for a formal gathering of parliament. He names Fen as a junior council member within his inner circle, voiding her tenancy at Kreuzfurt and ordering her into training in politics, in shadowing Adalei and in swordsmanship lessons. Lio is officially instated as the head of his King’s Guard and is sent to the palace barracks to both train himself back into form and to understand the structure of his new team. Marina and Zinnitzia are reassigned from Kreuzfurt to assist Adalei in organizing the transition at court. And Cat…Cat is officially made known as Stello Alest, which immediately gains the attention and ear of the Alelunen ambassador, Laure de Gianno. She asks for a meeting immediately, and he schedules it for the following day. It’s only a slight delay, but it gives them time.
They spend a full evening going over what they want to say to her and how, and when she appears at court, Elician feels surprisingly comfortable with having her escorted to their office. Theirs, officially. Two desks side by side where they can share work andconversation. A couch has even found its way into one corner, providing a more comfortable space to read should leaning forward for long hours prove too unbearable. It is, more often than not, where they both end up falling asleep each night, a habit Elician has no desire to question or replace.
He asked Cat only once, when he had woken up and realized he had once more ended up draped along Cat’s side, if Cat took offence to the contact. ‘I know it is not in your culture to allow such intimacy with another.’
‘We do allow it,’ Cat had refuted simply. ‘For family, loved ones. It is allowed. I don’t mind. You’re mine, aren’t you? And I am yours.’
Elician’s chest had ached at the words. Months alone in a room with no one else. No one at all. No one save a woman who wanted to take him apart and put him back together again, who wanted to understand how he worked and could not care less about what he thought or felt or knew. Who laid him out on a bed that bent his spine to the point of a constant, pervasive agony, and who set him against a Reaper just to see how his power could work. To test Life versus Death. Each touch had been pain. But when Elician takes Cat’s hand, Cat offers nothing but kindness in return. ‘Thank you,’ he had said.
And Cat’s answering, ‘Always,’ had buoyed him through all his preparations.
He is ready for Laure when she comes. He plays a charming host, summoning up all his lessons on courtesy as he arranges tea and bread for her. He sits with Cat on the couch as she perches on a comfortable chair across from them, a small knee-high table hosting their refreshments. He speaks to her in her own language, far more proficient now than he was the last time he saw her, before he left for war. ‘Thank you for your patience in the arrangement of this meeting,’ Elician begins. ‘As I’m sure you understand, things have been quite hectic these past few days.’
‘I do understand,’ Laure replies, eyes sliding to Cat. ‘I rememberwhen you died.’ To his credit, Cat does not outwardly react. He sits still as stone, tight-lipped and regal. He would have done his mother proud.
When he does respond, he does so only after he takes a few steady breaths. His words are soft, but they carry. ‘Were you there, also, when I killed my father at my mother’s request?’ he asks. ‘Or when I served my mother as her executioner for those who defied her? Or when she ordered me to come to Soleb to secure the end of this war and bring peace for our people?’
‘I was not,’ Laure admits. ‘But I was there, in my office, when you killed me once before.’
‘And you were there when I ensured you were brought back as well.’ Cat shrugs.
‘You do not deny that this is Alest, son of Queen Alenée?’ Elician interjects. Laure cuts him a look.
‘It is the official position of Alelune that the firstborn son of Queen Alenée is dead.’
‘And I died,’ Cat agrees. ‘But it is not the opinion of any in court that I remained that way. I am next in line for my mother’s throne.’
‘And you wish to make a claim?’
‘Yes.’
‘You are in the wrong country if that is what you wish.’ It is a fair and even point. One that is offered with little judgement or rebuke.
‘My uncle killed your queen,’ Elician says. ‘While there is a succession…in debate, I wish to sue for peace. A truce was drawn for the Kingsclave, and I would ask that it stays in place.’
‘KingGillage was crowned in the immediate aftermath of our queen’s demise,’ Laure replies. ‘Thereisno debate. The time for raising questions about legitimacy has long since passed. If Alest wishes to make his claim, then he will have to face Death for judgement.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘It’s a ritual,’ she replies. ‘When a challenger dares question ourmonarch’s eligibility to lead, the two stand before Death herself and ask our goddess to determine which line is true.’
