Chapter Text
If there was one thing a king should never be, it was late.
Half a dozen councillors dogged his steps as he swept through marble halls and gilded passageways.
"Your Majesty, we have urgent correspondence from Tenebrae awaiting your review."
"It shall have to wait some hours longer," Regis said.
"It has been two days already!"
Regis glanced to his right, where Clarus strode faithfully at his shoulder. He took the silent command, stepping up to look past Regis to the councillor on his left.
"Correspondence from Tenebrae is hardly a priority at this time," Clarus said. "All such matters must wait for their moment. Or would you have His Majesty set aside considerations of national importance to read a letter?"
"No, Master Amicitia, certainly not." The councillor bowed twice, once to Clarus and once to Regis. "Apologies, Your Majesty." And he disappeared from Regis' left hand side.
"Is my car waiting?" Regis asked.
"Cor has the Regalia at the steps," Clarus said. He opened his mouth a second time, as if to add something more, then thought better of it. No doubt he wished to remind Regis that it was not entirely necessary for him to see to this matter personally. No doubt he had also realized that he would never convince Regis to do otherwise. Once, perhaps. But no longer.
The Crownsguards at the main doors hauled them open as soon as they caught sight of Regis.
"Keep a hold on the council while I am away," Regis said. "I should not like to learn that Aldebrand had pushed the vote to deploy the Kingsglaive to the front in my absence again."
"A one time occurrence, I'm sure," Clarus said. "How long do you expect to be away?"
They exited through the double-tall front doors and began the long descent down the red carpet. At the bottom of the stairs, as promised, was Cor leaning against the Regalia, arms crossed and that perpetual scowl on his face.
"As long as necessary," Regis said.
Clarus followed him down the steps. "And that is how long? An hour? Five hours?"
"A minimum of one hour," Regis said.
Cor pulled the door open for him when they reached the car. Regis dropped inside without another word.
Clarus watched him, mouth pressed in a thin line, before turning to Cor. "Call me if you are delayed for any reason."
Cor shut Regis' door. If he had any response for Clarus, Regis never heard it. A moment later, he slid into the driver's seat and turned the key in the ignition, bringing the Regalia to life.
"Take us there as fast as is feasible, Cor." Regis ran his fingers along the inside of the door and the edge of the seat. She had never let him down. Today would not be the first. "And if you would be so kind as to silence your phone. I have no doubt people will begin pestering you as soon as they find me unavailable."
Cor reached into his pocket and obligingly silenced his phone. Regis' own phone was turned off—as it usually was. It was a tool for his convenience, not that of others.
Traffic in central Insomnia left much to be desired. If they were later still, it was due to the overabundance of people on the roads and not to any failing on his car's part. Regis tapped his fingers on his arm rest, stared out the window, and counted minutes. He glanced at the clock on the dash. Two fifteen. If he had left fifteen minutes earlier, he would have been on time. Instead he was resigned to being fifteen minutes late and only if the traffic held at moderately slow and never drifted into intolerably delayed. He would have to speak with the city planning committee. Surely there was something to be done about this mess.
At two thirty-five they reached their destination. Cor pulled up along the curb, parking in what was meant to be a loading zone. But the fact that all such loading had concluded some fifteen minutes before combined with the royal crest on the outside of the car ensured that no one took issue with Cor's parking job.
When Cor opened the door, Regis climbed out and took the paved walkway between the wide lawns, which was dotted with some few children and adolescents. Cor followed, keeping one step behind and half a step to the right. There was something refreshing about a school. Most of the children didn't know who he was—or else they didn't care. Those who both knew and cared were too shy to admit either. He made it through the entrance without any further impediments.
From the entrance hall, the corridors swept to either side and opened up before him into a wide courtyard, separated from the inside only by a series of open arches. In the courtyard were a handful of children, though only two interested him. At the moment, however, they were engaged in conversation with the others.
A child with pale brown hair and an abundance of freckles was speaking. "My mother says that the empire is going to win. She says the empty soldiers are invincible and that we can never beat them."
"That isn't true." Reina didn't often contradict people. Even now she avoided eye-contact with the brown-haired boy and rubbed her hands over her arms while she spoke. "They aren't invincible and even if they were, we would still win. We don't need to beat their army."
"Of course we do. That's how you win a war," said a girl with a pair of glasses and a ponytail. "Haven't you ever played Clash of Kings?"
Reina glanced at the other girl, then away. "It isn't like that."
"What is it like, then?" Asked the freckled boy eagerly. "You must know everything going on with the war, right?"
"No, I don't. I just know…" Reina hesitated. "I just know we're not going to lose and we're not going to beat their army."
"Huh? How could you know that?" He asked.
Reina's nails dug into her arm. "I… um…"
Up until that point, Noctis had stood by in silence without giving any indication of following the conversation. Now he stepped forward and in front of Reina. "She just knows, okay? Leave her alone."
Reina seemed to shrink behind him. The other two children looked taken aback.
"Geeze, alright," the freckled boy said. "I was just asking."
They both gave one more curious glance to Noctis and Reina before pulling themselves away and disappearing into the surrounding halls.
Once they were gone, Noctis turned around, hugging Reina around the neck. "Okay?"
"Mm. Mhm."
Noctis' eye caught on Regis, standing in the shadows just outside the courtyard.
"Dad!"
Reina pulled away and turned, wide-eyed, to look at him. He was shocked to see the shining tracks of tears on her cheeks. She rubbed hurriedly at her eyes as he stepped out to join them.
"Reina, my dear," Regis said. "Are you quite alright?"
She nodded, but as soon as he was near enough she threw her arms around his waist and hugged him as tightly as she could. He smoothed one hand across her back and reached out to tousle Noctis' hair.
"How have you found your first day back?" It seemed a stupid question, given the circumstances, but Regis asked it anyway.
Noctis shrugged one shoulder, looking away. "Fine."
Fine. It was the most overused word in his household, to the point where it had come to mean nothing at all.
"Reina?" Regis prompted.
She leaned back and looked up at him. Her cheeks were wet again and her eyes were rimmed in red. Regis pulled his handkerchief from his pocket and dried her tears.
"We don't have any friends here, Father," she said.
"I am afraid that is an inevitable side effect of your two year break. But surely your friends from before are still in the same grade?"
"They are…" Reina took his offered handkerchief and blew her nose. Her tone suggested the statement came with a caveat, but none came. He would ask again later, when she was feeling more composed.
"Well, in any case, I do apologize for my lateness," Regis said. "It is inexcusable. However, if you wished, we might do something to make up for it?"
"Do what?" Noctis asked.
"What would you like to do?" Regis asked.
Noctis glanced at Reina. No words were exchanged, and yet Regis had the distinct impression that thoughts were shared nevertheless. They had always done that. Ever since they were eighteen months and standing up in their respective cribs, babbling at each other through the bars when they were meant to be sleeping. Ten years ago, Regis would have said tales of twins having some unknowable bond were simply ridiculous. He had since rethought that belief.
"Should I call Clarus?" Cor asked flatly.
Reina glanced from him to Regis. "We just want to go home."
Regis felt a pang of regret. Nevertheless: "Then home is where we will go."