Chapter Text
Selection day was hectic as all Hells.
Everybody was moving about, practically vibrating with nervous energy. Shan discussed quietly with Bek, clearly shaking, but holding her composure remarkably well. Apo avoided speaking to anyone at all for nearly the entire morning, evidently mulling something over.
Nom and Mae, as anyone does in a stressful situation, played Farkle all morning. It resulted in more foreign swear words added to their vocabularies, because they began grabbing dictionaries and looking specifically for them to express just how angry they were when they had a streak of farkling for ten turns straight.
Nom and Katie had woken up at dawn, still tangled together, at relatively the same time. They'd parted ways a little bit awkwardly, but warm and familial all the same. He hadn't made it back in time for it not to arouse suspicion in Mae, but she hadn't pressed.
The hall of the castle buzzed with quiet activity—himself and Mae and their quiet cursing through Farkle, Kitty lounging on a chest, Bek pacing back and forth without her helmet on. Nerves, the kind that only came with a decision that wasn't up to the people.
The throne room was swathed in light like curtains, doors wide open to bathe the crimson floors in sunlight and bleach Mae's curls into fire instead of rust. It was remarkably built up, the castle—some of the others in the kingdom, mostly Sausage, had been focused on getting a roof and a rough outline of the rest of the palace done. Nom didn't actually know where Sausage himself lived, but it wasn't really any of his business. He wouldn't be needing the necromancer for much of anything.
There were still chests at the sides, but the banquet table that had once been there was gone, as one may have been able to guess from the way Bek's pacing practically wore a hole in the entire width of the foundations. The throne was different as well, chiseled at by Mae, and then fully refined by Shan, who apparently had a little bit of experience as an artisan and enjoyed making jewelry out of the trinkets of the ocean.
Nom had mostly been contributing to chest sorting. It wasn't hard labor, really, not participating in building and hammering and throwing together the castle itself, but it had to be done. If he didn't come about every now and again and fix their cluttered, practically unsalvageable organization, they'd never figure out where anything actually was so they could build the castle.
At long last, Shan entered.
She was clearly nervous, but her head was held high and her dress was smooth. Apo trailed behind her, on guard duty, probably. Bek fell into her spot in front of the throne alongside the other knight, nodding respectfully at Shan as she took her seat on the throne. The rest of them gathered at the sides.
Clearing her throat, Shan spoke. Her voice did not waver. "Blessed be, everyone," Oh. How formal—Nom hadn't been greeted with blessings in forever. "My reign is coming to a close. I'd like to tell all of you how much I appreciate you. You've all done absolutely incredible things working in your jobs and keeping the kingdom safe. I couldn't ask for better subjects and friends." Remarkably personal. With how large their size used to be, even as the slightly smaller kingdom between Red and Blue, it was hard for a monarch to truly know their subjects.
She clasped her hands together, a little shaky now. "For my final decree, I make it law that a monarch cannot enact war unless the Kingdom votes to do so, and that if they do, they are eligible to be deposed."
Wow. Nom didn't think he'd ever heard such a decree before. Kitty began clapping first, immediately followed by everybody in the throne room.
Leave it to Shan to solve half of the problem with tyrants.
Shan took off the crown, ending her reign officially, and set it on the seat of the throne. The weight of the paper and quill in Nom's hands was sudden, but not really surprising. He started at the paper for a long, long time, feeling the scratchy texture of it. It was brand new, yet browning around the sides, as flimsy as one could expect.
He didn't sign up.
After a few moments of silence, the wind came. It wasn't so much wind as it was a concept, fate and luck and chance being tossed about like dice. Nom had never been able to find a concrete name for which deity was responsible for the selection. He'd always assumed it to be the Rogue God, but maybe he was just biased about the luck thing.
At last, after a suspiciously long time, a new name boomed through the hall. Apo Kuna.
Holy shit.
Apo froze like a deer in headlights, stock-still on the side of the hall. The crown appeared on her head, golden and gleaming and so very out of place, and shifted between styles before it settled: a simple, crescent-shaped tiara with the red gem in the dead center, the curve of the crescent facing upwards instead of to the side like the actual Moon would.
Once Apo seemed to regain control of their body, she carefully went to the throne and sat on it, stiff and proper and deeply, deeply uncomfortable. As cheers and shouts of "Hail!" echoed through the hall, she looked… perhaps not scared, but apprehensive.
Mae immediately went to their side, taking her hand in hers and squeezing gently. Nom was glad for it. Bek looked slightly confused as to what she was meant to do if Apo was on the throne and not guarding the monarch themselves, so Nom took up stance with his spear.
Apo stumbled through some of her speech, but was remarkably composed otherwise, though they were white-knuckling the sides of the throne. She said that they needed time to figure out what was going to be the official objective of her reign, and promised to call everybody back to the hall in, at most, two days.
Apo looked like she was going to pass out the second everyone left the room. Their face paled considerably, hands shaking at their sides. Mae steadied her, carefully avoiding the knight's feet, propping them up like she was holding an infant and did not know how to hold an infant.
"Are you okay?" Mae fretted. She passed Apo over to Nom, who wasn't any less awkward in his attempt at comfort, but he at least managed to keep her fully upright and help in the effort of calming them down.
"I'm fine," Apo huffed, suddenly red in the face. "God, that's so embarrassing—what kind of queen can't handle her own coronation? It wasn't even that bad."
Mae objected. "A human one? Congratulations, by the way, your crown looks excellent, a heads up would have been nice, but if it was private or a spur of the moment thing, we get it. Can we help in any way?"
The knight slumped further into Nom, who started at Mae like a devotee pleading with a god they didn't even worship. "Uh, if I could talk to both of you one-on-one, that'd be nice," She hummed, burying their face in her hands. Nom absently fixed her hair, which had been mussed by the crown. It was the only thing he could think of to keep himself busy.
Mae nodded, though her brow was furrowed with worry. "Me or Nom first? Are you sure you don't need help getting anywhere, or anything? Not feeling nauseous? You really did look like you were going to throw up for a second there."
Apo simply waved her away and then gestured at Nom vaguely. Mae seemed to get it, because she said goodbye and trotted out of the hall. Alone in the quiet, stagnant air of the throne room, Nom had the same sense as when Graecie would tell him that she had something to say when he was much younger.
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you I was applying," Apo began, sighing and pushing loose hair out of her face, which only made it worse (Nom was slightly offended. He just fixed that!). "I only made up my mind last night and uh— I just didn't want to interrupt you and Mae and I felt like if I did try to say anything, I'd throw up on the spot just from nerves." They stood in the shady corner.
Nom considered it. He'd done worse things and said nothing about it, weirdly enough. "It's alright. If you ever need any help with your reign, you can just send me a pigeon. I'll come running."
The knight perked up, snapping her fingers. "Right— I forgot to ask, would you mind sending off a letter tonight to ask if the Blue Kingdom's monarch would mind meeting up with us on the bridge? The same way we did when we first got here."
He blinked at them. "I can do that, yeah. Is that all?"
"I think that's all I'm ready to say for now. We… I want to talk to you more tomorrow. When I've had time to think on it. Can you get Mae?" Nom let his hand rest on her shoulder, as reassuring as he could make it.
"Got it. Stay safe, Apo. Good luck." They gave him only a small smile and a nod, accompanied by a tiny salute.
Mae was lingering outside the castle door, clearly worried despite her abiding by Apo's wish for privacy. She whipped around to face Nom the second she heard his footsteps and practically seized him by the shoulders before remembering herself and sheepishly taking her hands away. "Is she alright?"
"They're fine," He assured her, patting her head and chuckling when she swatted his hand away. "Your turn to talk. I think Apo's a little overwhelmed, so… be gentle, I guess."
She shrugged lightly, but the tension still remained in her shoulders. "I'm not the heavy-handed one between the two of us." With a wry grin, she slipped into the castle and into the dark where Apo hid.
He wrote up a simple letter. To the residents of the Blue Kingdom, the Red Kingdom formally requests a peaceful meeting on the bridge of No Man's Land akin to the meeting held on the first day. We will not draw weapons if you do not threaten us. Regards, Nominal of the Red Kingdom.
Nom looked around for a group of ravens, maybe even a lone crow, envelope in hand. Any of the flock of corvids would do. At last, as he was inspecting the treetops, a crow—lanky, light, smaller, and bearing neater front feathers—perched on his shoulder, startling him so badly he nearly threw her off.
"My bad," He placated, and then gave her some polite pets as an apology for the spook. Then, he held up the letter and tied it around her foot. "Would you take this over to Blue for me? Give it to Graecie, maybe drop it in the throne room if they're all there. You know who I mean, yeah?"
She did. Nom honestly didn't want to question the intelligence of the local bird population.
As the crow flew away, Nom couldn't help but realize that he desperately needed some normalcy after the events of the day. Without a word further, he spun on his heel and trudged to the blacksmith, heart set on making armor and having light conversation for the rest of the day.
Bek indulged him, and thank the holy spirits that she did. They both would've gone stir-crazy otherwise.