Work Text:
“I have been nothing, nothing,” Max’s blue eyes were dark with anger and betrayal, “but a loyal son to you, a loyal Prince to our Kingdom.” The fabric underneath his fingers strained at the pressure he was causing by bunching up his fists.
Robert looked at him steadily, his blue eyes revealing nothing of what he was thinking, feeling. The letter that had been hand-delivered to him by a Beawynn ambassador was sitting, open, upon his desk. “You have been,” Robert agreed. His hands were clasped together on his desk, the signet ring he wore catching the candlelight and turning the gold into a burnished orange.
“Then what,” Max begged, his voice taut with emotion, “have I done wrong?” The last word cracked in half as it escaped his lips. Max couldn’t bring himself to care how weak he must look right now, nearly in tears over a letter, in front of his Father and King.
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Robert looked down again at the formal writing. “This rivalry was formed long before either of us were born, Max.”
“I don’t want to do this,” Max whispered, falling back into his chair like his strings had been cut. He scrubbed a hand over his face as if that would stop the tears from forming.
Robert swallowed, feeling helpless in the face of his only son’s agony. He read the most important part of the passage again, the words of King Christopher of Beawynn weighty with promise. “I know you don’t, son. I know.”
Silence joined the Father and Son, the King and Prince, as the Father-King watched the Son-Prince come to terms with his new lot in life.
TO King Robert IV of Bennegrove,
Sir, I trust that Ambassador Admetus has arrived safely and hale in your lands. He is one of my most trusted Advisors, and the only one whom I felt would be able to present you this letter.
Sir, there have been generations of hostilities, battles, and skirmishes between our two Kingdoms for too long. I am sick of it, my people are sick of it, and I cannot find it in me to continue sending my men, my citizens whom I have been born to protect, into battles to die for reasons no one remembers any longer.
After many months of debating and discussing with my Council, my offer is this:
Let us settle our rivalry and declare it no more. This promised treaty is to be sealed with the marriage of my Daughter, Crown Princess Vanessa, to your son, Prince Maxwell.
If this proposal is accepted, Ambassador Admetus has with him further documents outlining and detailing the minutiae of this treaty, and he is of course willing to amend what may be amended for you and your citizens. If it is not accepted, Ambassador Admetus has with him documents for a peace treaty, nonetheless. While I am fully aware of the implications of either decision, and indeed this treaty proposal was not made with a light hand, I do not want to see my citizens suffering any longer. I will not bear this indignity further, and it is my and my Ambassador’s hope that you agree with us on this matter.
If you accept the proposal, We, the Kingdom of Beawynn, look forward to welcoming you to Our City before the harvest strikes.
On Wings and Willows Do Mighty Men Soar,
King Christopher I of Beawynn