Chapter Text
Amon looked down from his raised dais with furrowed eyebrows, atop his throne and garbed in heavy rich fabrics. One unfathomable grey eye met his unwaveringly, the other covered by an eyepatch, perhaps a battle scar. The knight stubbornly refused to drop his gaze in deference and respect, as most did in Amon's presence. He sighed, not liking to be involved in this messy matter. Up until recently, he had been at a strict catholic university in the countryside, learning Latin and training his body so as to support his kingdom from behind his father, and then his older brothers, as a third son should. The country had been in turmoil, just a short while after a war with a neighboring nation, domestic unrest had grown and rebel groups had struck down then entirety of the residents of the palace, including the ruling family, and he had been instituted to the crown hurriedly, and now the unrest was quelled, at least on the surface.
Amon stood, cutting an imposing figure with his large frame, expanded by the rich robes he wore, and drawing the gaze of his assistant Akira and the guards at the door.
"Leave us." he spoke curtly, leaving no room for argument, and so the others in the room left, albeit with reluctance. As a king, Amon was well able to defend himself, having trained under the Knights at the palace as a boy, and he had an obvious physical advantage over the wiry knight before him. Even so, this was not customary, but Amon liked to judge things himself.
"Are you aware what you are here for, Ken Kaneki?" He asked directly, advancing a step or two forward. This knight puzzled him, showing no signs of intimidation or fear, and no remorse over the acts he had committed. From the report that Amon had read, the short, young knight had killed his lord, an earl who ruled over a relatively large plot of land, as well as many of the Knights who worked for him, who would have been his brothers in arms. Apparently when he was finally apprehended, the walls of the room were stained with blood and his pale skin was splattered until he resembled a monster.
"I am, your highness. What will you do with me?"
There were muttering that this Ken Kaneki had been involved with the rebel group, which was the reason his family was dead, as well as one of his closest mentors, Kureo Mado. Amon fought down a surge of rage and sorrow, determined to make his judgement without bias. He was aware of the corruption that sometimes pervaded the circles of nobility, and something about the guileless gaze of the knight intrigued him.
He held no malice that Amon could see, no killing intent. He had been disarmed, and bound, but Kaneki still carried himself in an upright manner, stable and steady. Even though he was clearly aware of his actions, Amon felt the need to stand on ceremony and recite the charges.
"You, Ken Kaneki, are hereby charged with murdering your lord, to whom you swore fealty, as well as four of your comrades in arms, in cold blood. How do you plead?"
"Guilty your highness," without a pause he spoke, raising his chin, and despite a foot in height difference as well as the added height of his dias, Amon still felt like he was the one being looked down at. The stubborn, cold gaze did not shift from his own for a moment. Amon sighed, relaxing his forcedly regal posture and asking genuinely,
"Why? Why did you do it?"
Kaneki's emotionless mask crumbled just a little bit, just enough to prove that he wasn't made of ice, wasn't completely dauntless.
"King Amon, do you know why the people rebelled and killed the royal family?" He asked in lieu of an answer. The question gave Amon pause. Up until the untimely death of the king and second in line and then the third, Amon had payed very little attention to the state of the country, barely exiting the circle of Knights, monks, and advisors that he had been surrounded by since childhood. He had exhausted following the creed of his advisors and family, and supported their reasoning without question.
"I assume it was because of food shortages after the recent war. You still haven't answered my question." Amon responded curtly, refusing to let Kaneki derail the discussion. This was a trial for murder.
"I killed him because he murdered a little girls mother for not being able to afford her taxes, I killed him for making the people choose between food and paying him. I killed him for lining his own pockets, for letting his Knights do whatever they wanted to innocent people. I fought in that war, king Amon, I killed people at the orders of this palace, and I honestly don't see any difference between us and them." His speech grew impassioned, and his face cracked from his mask, the emotion making him appear all the younger, before he stopped suddenly, clamming up. This was a boy of barely twenty, already war hardened and bitter.
Amon was suddenly struck with the memory of a knighting ceremony, carried out in this very room maybe a year ago. A young knight who was smaller than most others, lowborn, and inexplicably bright eyed and idealistic. He very vaguely remembered the face, smiling and blushing when he was congratulated. Amon had shaken his hand, following etiquette as a member of the royal family. The memory of that day, in brighter times when the war was barely clouds on the horizon, jarred Amon.
The face in the memory, young and hopeful, clashed with the one before him, a young man who had been broken down by war and tragedy, but still carried the dregs of idealism within him. Kaneki Ken was a good person. Amon found that he could not manage to think otherwise, no matter what the report he had been handed claimed. Whoever had written it, he thought, seemed to have a very basic knowledge of what had happened. Perhaps this was just based on the first missive sent after Kaneki was apprehended. It was obviously heavily filtered, as many of the reports he received generally were.
"Kaneki Ken, I am sentencing you too," Amon paused. Kaneki should really be executed, for what he had done, killed for the cold blooded murder of five people, but Amon could not bring himself to do that to him. Someone as idealistic, as nobly driven, could not have done so without sufficient reason, and so he continued," three years in prison, followed by five years in direct service to the palace as a knight at arms."
Kaneki's eyes widened. He had obviously been prepared for execution. Amon would not do that, because despite possible ties to rebel groups, he needed allies, free thinkers, and help to get out from under the thumb of the church and of his council of advisors.
Kaneki schooled his expression as Amon called Akira and the guards back in.
"I take it you have sentenced him," asked Akira, sneering at the boy who stood before her.
"Yes. Take him to the prison for a sentence of three years."
"T-Three years, your highness?" Asked Akira, not bothering to hide her shock. She harbored particular hatred for rebels and their sympathizers, due to the unfortunate case f her late father.
"But, he killed five people, including his own lord!"
"That is enough Akira!" Thundered Amon. He did not generally raise his voice, but as a ruler he did have to learn to assert authority. She quieted down with a sullen look, and glared at the boy as he was taken away.
Kaneki glanced back, eyes as silver as new coins, and called out to him,
"I do look forward to seeing you again, your highness." His head was roughly shoved down, and Kaneki did not resist as he was removed from the room.