Chapter Text
Third person pov
Wade was standing alone in the castle. Imogen had gone to the west wing to meet Amarinda, where the princess of Bymar was waiting for her. It had been months when he had last stood here. The castle hadn't changed much since then. Though it felt strange to return here. Stranger still, was knowing that this time, he had not come as a guest but as a man who would be marrying soon.
Wade had taken perhaps three steps before a familiar voice stopped him. He turned to see Fink, perched on the edge of a bench, swinging his legs, talking long before Wade could fully greet him.
“Wade! You're back! I got so upset when you left like that,” Fink announced, as though Wade had personally abandoned him. He continued speaking so quickly that it was clear that he did not intend to pause to take a breath. “You just disappeared. Tobias says you left and I should say that was rude but also I’m glad you’re back because Tobias is boring and Amarinda only keeps making me read things with too many words—-”
“Fink,” Wade said gently, bracing a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “It’s… good to see you too.”
He sharply drew a breath, then immediately added, “You’re back for good, right? Or at least longer than last time?”
Wade smiled. “Of course I am here for longer than last time. You seem very happy right now.”
“I am,” Fink said brightly. “Because Jaron’s brother is here.”
“Darius?” Wade asked.
Fink nodded enthusiastically. “Yes. Well technically Darius is also my brother since Jaron adopted me. But he is no fun either sometimes. Especially because he makes me study even when Tobias isn’t around, and I don't get why everyone just likes to make me study. Also I don’t know why everyone thinks reading about boring things is important. Anyway Jaron is doing fine and I am happy for that but he spends far too much time with Darius. Also those two leave me out of many things these days. Which is unfair. They have been repairing the castle a lot together so I get that they have been busy lately. But still it doesn't make it fair."
“Where is Jaron?” Wade asked, gently interrupting before another subject could be introduced.
Fink frowned, thinking. “He is probably still in the regents room with Mott, Harlowe and Kerwyn. The meetings should have ended by now but they never really end. Come with me. Though you should be careful.” Fink said as he led the way.
“Careful?”, Wade asked as he trailed beside Fink.
Fink nodded. “Yes. Because Jaron is always in a terrible mood after meetings. Everyone knows that. Mott and Harlowe have been dealing with it for almost two years now. And Kerwyn have done it for much longer. You should be careful, Wade.”
Wade recalled how Imogen had once told him that Jaron often wished to escape formal gatherings. That during her months in the castle, Jaron used to vanish whenever the regents held a meeting and how he would usually grow restless, sharp-tongued and withdrawn afterward once the formal events ended. Which was why sometimes she had to leave him to cool down.
“Should I feel sorry for them?” Wade asked.
“I don’t know,” Fink replied. “But others do try to calm him sometimes now. But knowing Jaron, he often ignores everyone.”
Wade and Fink were near the regents room by now and Wade was about to respond to Fink when voices reached them through the open doors of the throne room.
Wade stopped.
From behind the door they heard Jaron’s voice.
Jaron's Pov
The regents' meeting had ended some time ago though I still wasn't quite sure about that. The meeting had ran for three hours.
Three hours, and those useless regents had accomplished absolutely nothing, unless one counted debating sheep taxes as an accomplishment.
We still had fortifications to reinforce, ships to commission, roads to discuss about which were half-rebuilt and half-signed treaties and they only argued about sheep. I supposed those regents would never do anything useful.
“I am beginning to think,” I said, pacing, “that Tobias is not doing his job as the Minister of Restricting Boring People to No More Than Eight Minutes.”
“That is not a real position,” Harlowe said calmly, which only further irritated me though it was unfair to be annoyed at him.
“It is,” I replied. “I made it a year ago. And look at him, leaving the meeting in the middle to work on poetry for Amarinda.”
Kerwyn cleared his throat. “That is not entirely—”
“And frankly,” I interrupted him as I continued, “Amarinda has a better sense of duty than Tobias at times, and that is saying something.”
Harlowe smiled but he said nothing.
I added. “And Roden is not helping either. Why was there a three-hour lecture on oat cultivation last week?”
“That was... important Jaron,” Kerwyn said mildly.
Harlowe’s voice followed, gentle but firm. “Roden does not like being called Oat Minister, Jaron. He has always objected to being called The Minister of Oats. He does not like the position.”
“He should try ruling a kingdom,” I muttered. “My point is, some of these regents are harder to deal with than my most dangerous enemies ever were. Vargan was simpler. At least he made it clear what he wanted. Devlin tried to kill me when I was eleven and even he had better timing. And Terrowic... he was too stupid to notice me stealing his keys twice right under his nose. And the Prozarians… well, Wilta was dangerous, I’ll admit that, but Strick at least listened.”
Mott shifted nearby. “You are exaggerating again, Jaron."
“I am absolutely not,” I said. “I would rather face an assassin than another debate on livestock.” Which was true enough.
Third person Pov
Wade listened to Jaron for some time from outside the door and then he slowly turned to Fink. “Is he… always like this?”
“Yes,” Fink said cheerfully. “It’s normal.”
“Should I be concerned?”
“Maybe. ”
Wade hesitated. “Do you think he wants to talk right now?”
Fink considered for a moment, “I don't know. But Jaron calms down eventually. You just have to give some time for the storm to die down.”
Fink then tilted his head after a moment. “Do you still want to talk to him now? Because if you do that then you’re really brave, Wade. Even Imogen used to leave him alone when Jaron was like that. Or scold him though he never listened. He doesn’t even listen to Mott, and Mott scolds a lot.”
Jaron’s pov
I stood with my hands braced against the table, my temper still warm, when I noticed the door opened wider. Fink was standing there.
“What do you want Fink?” I asked, rubbing a hand across my face. “And don’t tell me Runaway escaped again, because if it did, you need to find it before I do.”
“No,” Fink said quickly. “My rat Runaway is fine.”
A beat later Wade stepped into view. I almost went still for just a moment.
Fink glanced between us. “He’s like this after meetings,” He whispered to Wade though it was barely a whisper. “But it goes away.”
I slowly drew in a breath to steady my temper.
“Wade,” I said. “I didn’t know you were here.” A beat passed, then I added. "It seems you’ve chosen a poor moment.”
He inclined his head respectfully. “So I was warned.”
Of course he was. It wasn't surprising as Fink was with him. My younger brother never missed an opportunity to narrate things he shouldn't. He just couldn't keep quiet.
“Imogen has come with me too but she is with Amarinda. I came to see you.” Wade said.
“Of course,” I nodded once. “You’ll both be staying, I assume.”
“Yes.”
Silence followed for some moment. I gestured toward the table. “If you’ve come to speak, it might be best to do it now. Before another meeting reminds me why I dislike governance. Also try to make it brief before I decide to resume arguing with men who believe oats and sheeps are a philosophical subject.” My last words made Harlowe hide a smile.
Fink grinned. “Told you he’d be fine.”
Wade stood there for some time as though weighing his words with care, and I suspected he was searching for a beginning that would not offend or imply something else. It seemed he felt as if even the air itself might judge him for choosing his words poorly. I did not hurry him again. He opened his mouth to speak but I turned my attention to Fink.
“Fink,” I said, “go to Tobias. And do not consider skipping your studies today. Also,” I fixed him with a look now, “Don’t try to think of climbing walls only to copy me like you usually do.”
Fink straightened at once, “I wasn’t going to,” he muttered, which was certainly a lie.
“Yes, you were,” I replied mildly.
His mouth fell open and then he scowled.
“That’s unfair,” he muttered, folding his arms. “You always climb walls.”
His mouth twisted into a pout so dramatic it might have been rehearsed.
“I do,” I corrected Fink. “But that doesn't mean you should do the same.”
Wade, I noticed, watched this exchange with open amazement, as if he were witnessing some rare, well-managed miracle.
Fink didn't look happy but he obeyed me anyway for now. He turned toward the door and stormed out, muttering under his breath some words that were, unfortunately, familiar and certainly sounded like curses.
“Watch your curses, Fink.” I added.
He froze for half a beat, then fled outright.
Wade stared at Fink as he left. So did Mott. Kerwyn raised a brow and even Harlowe’s expression shifted though he was mostly faintly amused by it. Surely all of them had heard every syllable Fink had muttered from the devil's vocabulary a while ago. Their silence in the way they all pretended not to listen was enough to tell me that.
I let out a long breath and sat down at the table, rubbing a hand across my face.
Mott wasted no time and used the opportunity to lecture me again. “You are a terrible influence on Fink,” he said flatly. “You are ruining him, Jaron. You know that, don’t you? He is picking up your curses.”
I leaned back in my chair with the ease of someone who had been scolded many times before for my usual failings of recklessness. Mostly by Mott. “I've never once told him to stop studying or to climb walls. And I didn't teach him how to curse.”
“No. But that is not the point,” Mott replied, unimpressed. “He hears when you curse and is learning them. He copies whatever you do. And now he copies how you speak.”
I grimaced. “That’s unfair.”
“Darius told me,” Mott continued calmly, “about your habits as a child. About how often you tried to skip your lessons or vanish when tutors weren’t looking. He said you were no better back then.”
“That was because I thought Darius would be king,” I said, as I rolled my eyes away. “And look at him now. He could have returned months earlier from now and claimed his throne and everyone would have accepted him. But instead he chose to rule Belland and let me keep the throne.”
Mott’s gaze did not soften. “That does not excuse your behavior,” Mott said. “You still climb walls. You still curse. And now, instead of skipping lessons, you talk about skipping meetings. You must control some of your habits, Jaron. I am not telling you not to climb walls but you must stop cursing and trying to skip meetings. You are king.”
I opened my mouth to object but then closed it.
“I only curse sometimes. And I only wish to skip only the useless meetings. Which are mostly all of them but I still attend them,” I muttered.
But Mott looked unconvinced.
Wade was still standing still in the room, absorbing all of this with an expression that suggested he had not expected all this. He seemed as if he was unsure whether he was meant to hear all this or not.
Kerwyn and Harlowe exchanged glances and excused themselves quietly after sometime, being wise enough to know when a conversation had shifted.
Kerwyn cleared his throat. “We will leave you for now, Jaron,” he said gently.
Harlowe nodded once, offering me a look that said later as he bowed next, after which he left the room along with Kerwyn. Mott still remained in the room with his mouth still pinched into a thin line of disapproval.
I turned to Wade. “You can come inside,” I said.
When the door closed behind him, I asked him, “Why are you here?”
Though I already knew the answer to that question. Amarinda and Imogen had written often to each other. They were honest in those letters. Probably more honest than Imogen had ever been with me.
I had known Imogen had been betrothed to Wade for the past few weeks, even if only two months had passed since I had ended mine in the great hall of my castle on what was supposed to be our wedding day after the Prozarians had left our walls. When Amarinda informed us of Imogen and Wade's betrothal during dinner a few weeks ago, it had not surprised me in the least.
Wade and Imogen were childhood friends. He had loved Imogen long before I ever did. I had suspected that much once and I knew it now it was true. It was obvious in the way he watched her when he thought no one noticed. I had seen it nine months ago, clear as daylight, even when no one else wished to. I knew whatever Wade was about to say had something to do with his recent betrothal to Imogen.
Clearly he was struggling to arrange his thoughts into something suitable to say to a king who had once been betrothed to the girl he now meant to marry. He had always been like that. But he was a good person. He was also careful where others were not and thoughtful where others rushed. It was, I supposed, one of the reasons Imogen had always trusted him.
Wade drew a breath. “We are marrying next week,” he said. “I came to invite you along with all your friends. They are her friends as well. We would love to have you all there.”
Mott smiled. “That is good news.”
I nodded. “It is.”
I really meant it. Honestly, the news surprised me far less than it might have. I felt no pain or bitterness or for that matter even a sense of loss in it but rather a feeling that things were just as it should be.
After a while I said with a smile. “We will come.”