“You’ve already declared your intent to take the throne, Your Majesty,” Leopold reminded Argrave. “This revelation doesn’t change that, so far as I’m concerned. And need I remind you… of the promises you made?”

The six of them stood around Leopold’s grand council room—Argrave’s companions, Elenore, and Leopold. The room was far too large for them alone, but no one else was around to take their seats. At the very least, not for now.

“My brother’s actions did not shock me so badly as to make me forget promises. All I promised Relize will be delivered,” Argrave said pointedly. “If Orion is in Dirracha… if he’s spoken to Vasquer… that means he probably knows our intent,” Argrave spoke to Elenore.

Leopold frowned. “Vasquer? Your Majesty means… the tales of that snake being unearthed are more than simply tales?”

Argrave nodded. “Yes, Vasquer is real. We’d hoped to keep her hidden, but not all went as planned.”

“Do you truly believe Vasquer would trust Orion enough to disclose our intent?” Elenore questioned. “She might not have shared everything. Or anything, even.”

“Orion, erratic as he is, genuinely wants to do good,” Argrave shook his head. “I think I can say with relative confidence Vasquer shared… something. It’s the only explanation for why he might do something so drastic. The Orion I know would never harm family. He was blind to Induen’s malevolence, and would not rebel against Felipe just the same. He has to have learned.”

“If he has, the way he’s gone about it is simply madness,” Elenore shook her head.

“Does the possibility of cooperation exist?” Argrave posited. “I think, at the very least, it’s worth making contact with him.”

“I can try and do so,” Elenore nodded confidently. “I’m… hesitant, given his nature.”

“More important than Orion…” Anneliese cut in. “The king, alone, is one man. The kingdom is the key. As Elenore said, even if Orion declares that Argrave is well and truly king and his intentions match perfectly with our own… I cannot see this lessening the burden of war. Indeed, it may intensify things. Naming oneself king does not grant one the kingdom, after all.”

Durran stepped into the conversation, sitting atop the table. “Our enemy’s leadership has crumbled. I should think this is a good thing for us.”

“So long as Felipe lives, things get… murky,” Elenore said grimly. “Orion’s actions will win him no support. They are… bluntly put, reckless and alarming. Orion already has a reputation for unpredictability and has no steadfast allies. I imagine the nobles of central Vasquer will reject any orders he might give and take this as opportunity rather than hazard. In essence, the authority of the monarchy… it’s been subverted, and very nearly dissolved. All Orion has is his personal guard—Waxknights, he called them. He has no allies, none that would support him. And so… this is why I claimed things would be madness.”

Argrave raised a brow, surprised that name for Orion’s knights had been adopted. So far as he remembered, he’d never said that name out loud to Orion specifically. Either he misremembered things… or Orion had seen into his memories. Slowly, he crossed his arms and stepped into the center of the council room.

“We’ll wait for Orion’s response to Elenore,” Argrave declared. “But… Galamon. You and Patriarch Dras conquered all of Veiden in a time past. And all of these conquests… were they by the sword?”

Galamon shifted once he’d be called upon. “No, Your Majesty. As many were by promise and alliance as by sword and spell.”

“Precisely so,” Argrave nodded. “Consequently… if they’re disillusioned by the idea of Orion as a monarch, it’s our time to reach out to them. We may be able to win over many heads bloodlessly.” Argrave looked at Elenore. “This is somewhat what you intended at Atrus, but at a grander scale, yes?”

“…reasonably so,” Elenore nodded, hesitating a beat. “But the nobles of central Vasquer—they have not experienced chaos or a loss of leadership. Many have strong ties with each other. Above all, they’re upstarts… and the most loyal to Felipe, personally, as a consequence. If we advance too strongly, they may federate in some manner. Indeed, a federation is probably inevitable.”

Argrave nodded, digesting her words. “The bottom line remains, however, that Vasquer must be reunified. Relize is risking nearly everything on this war of ours—they’ve suspended trade, turned their galleys into vessels of war, marshalled all of their forces, and gathered enough supplies to provision that army,” Argrave fixed his gaze upon Leopold. “I cannot betray that faith. They place all on the line. I have to give them a return on their investment.”

“I am glad Your Majesty keeps this in mind,” Leopold dipped his head, stroking his beard.

“We have long ago committed to this path,” Argrave stepped around. “I will not forsake the promises I’ve made because of this new development. If I can win some to my side without bloodshed, good—I will treat these people as generously as I am able. If Orion is willing to accept these promises, I will treat him well in turn. But I made a pledge, and I must keep it.”

“Inspirational,” Durran said drolly. “Maybe save that speech when there’s more than five people listening. Er, Your Majesty,” Durran amended at the end.

Argrave laughed lightly. “Perhaps I should.” Argrave stepped up to the head of one of the tables, all five of those present in his eyesight. “So, we tread delicately. We approach things optimistically yet maintain the realistic aspect of things.” Argrave adjusted his collar. “I think some delegates to central Vasquer are in order, for starters. I know these nobles well—I’ll take a personal hand in that arrangement. Once the fortress at Indanus Divide is established, we move a great bulk of our troops to take position there. Regardless… this civil war must be brought to an end. We still must prepare to do just that.”

#####

“Gods be damned,” said Durran as he and Argrave walked down a hallway. “Every day, this feels… more and more real,” he noted. “What’s your plan for the rest of the day… Your Majesty?”

“Have to scout out this guy that’s been giving Leopold’s men some trouble. He has a handle on the shipyard better than anyone, so I’m told, but he’s being a bit resistant to the changes. Nothing out of the ordinary, I guess. I’m a negotiator with a fancy title. After that… don’t know,” Argrave stretched. “Probably unwind with Anneliese, study magic. These are the last precious days of peace before we start marching, ostensibly. I am still worried about our lack of spellcasters…”

Durran grabbed Argrave’s elbow. “Talk to you a minute?”

Argrave turned. “Sure. What is it?”

“Over here,” Durran said, leading Argrave to a quiet window far from the areas of heavy traffic.

“Something wrong?” Argrave raised a brow.

“Thought you should know… huh,” Durran trailed off. “I’m seeing a little bit of gray on your eyes, again.”

Argrave touched his cheeks almost by instinct. “Really now? That’s… wow, yeah, that is good news.” Argrave was smiling, but it slowly faded. “Something tells me you had other things on your mind.”

Durran looked out the window. “Yeah. I… thought you should know, considering your relation and all… even if it is a bit superficial, given the whole ‘Heroes of Berendar’ thing, whatever in the world that’s about…” Durran turned his head a little further away as though Argrave had suddenly become Medusa and meeting his eyes would turn him to stone. “I… plan on going after your sister.”

A rush of surprise took Argrave. He had the presence of mind to avoid patting Durran on the shoulder enthusiastically as a little something entertaining took root in his mind.

“You can’t kill her,” Argrave said, keeping his face solemn. “She’s a very valuable member of this team—you know that. What are you talking about?”

“No…!” Durran looked around to be sure none overheard, then held his hands out. “Of course I’m not talking about that. You think I’m stupid?”

“So… what do you mean, ‘go after?’” Argrave pressed.

“I mean…” Durran gestured, the word not coming to him whatsoever. “I mean… she and I… gods, I don’t know what the hell I mean.”

Argrave’s lips were twisting as he tried to keep the smile off his face.

“Like you and Anneliese, I guess. Seeing that… something like that, it would be…” Durran finally looked at Argrave, his brow lowering as he caught sight of Argrave’s barely concealed smile.

When the realization dawned that Argrave knew precisely what he was talking about from the beginning, Durran kicked him in the shin. Argrave stepped away to protect himself, finally letting free his laughter as he cried, “Ow, ow! You’re wearing armor, that hurts!”

“Pouring my heart out to a mocking mannequin,” Durran lamented, stepping away. After a time, he found the humor in the situation and turned around, pointing at Argrave as he declared, “You’ve got problems, you know that?”

“I’ve heard it said,” Argrave rubbed his shin. “In all seriousness—I appreciate the heads up. Go for it. Just…” Argrave straightened. “Far be it from me to give advice about the potential drawbacks… but don’t muck things up.”

“Wow. I’d planned on doing just that until you reminded me,” Durran said mockingly.

A door opened, and someone stepped out. When the woman caught sight of Durran and Argrave, she meekly bowed and said, “Your Majesty,” then moved away speedily.

“Gods,” Durran said after she left. “Completely forgot. I just… I just kicked a king.”

Argrave smiled bitterly. “Yeah, well… try not to make it a habit, I guess.”

Durran moved to the window. “It’s… a little surreal, what I’ve been doing. We’ve been doing,” he corrected. “Gulf between us… gets bigger and bigger. Can’t act so freely. Always thought I would be the main figure in the story. Now…” Durran shook his head. “Not that I’m complaining.”

“Looks like I’ll have to make you a duke, since you’re so worried about the gulf between us,” Argrave said.

Durran laughed at the notion, until his face froze when he realized Argrave wasn’t laughing with him. “Well… uh, I’ve said all I need to. Thanks for your time, King Argrave. Enjoy the rest of your day.”

#####

“Thanks for all your help lately, Galamon,” commented Argrave spontaneously. “Though… guess it’s not just lately, is it?”

“No, Your Majesty,” agreed Galamon.

Argrave smiled at his candor. “And things with you—how have they been? Hopefully you have more to say than just ‘I’m fine.’”

Anneliese and Argrave both looked to him, curious for his answer.

“I feel… like I’m back decades ago,” admitted Galamon.

Argrave paused, running that through his head. “You mean… back at Dras’ conquest?”

“Precisely,” Galamon nodded. “You are well-suited to the role you have, now.”

Argrave was taken aback by this. It was one thing to hear that from Leopold or any number of the others… but Galamon saying that had a strange weight to it. Ironically, it didn’t fill him with confidence. It felt like he met a standard he’d have to desperately try to uphold.

“I feel like a fraud,” Argrave confessed. “Feel like it’s a matter of time before I fail, and everyone realizes that I wasn’t meant to be king.”

“You are—” Anneliese began.

“You will fail, Your Majesty,” Galamon nodded in agreement, cutting her off. “Minimizing the effects of that… remaining standing despite failure… that is the mark of true success. To be successful is easy. To overcome failure decides one’s true potential.”

Argrave stared at Galamon, feeling the man had said something quite profound.

Galamon cleared his throat, and Argrave briefly questioned if he was embarrassed. “…or so I have been thinking, these past few months. The notion of a cure to my ailment… though I cannot say I feel a fraud, I do question if I deserve such a thing. If that is what Veid truly has in mind for me.”

“You do deserve it,” Argrave assured him.

“Considering you feel like an imposter even now, Your Majesty, you should know how little those words change my mind.”

Argrave scratched at his cheek. “I guess all that’s left to do is to walk the path ahead.”