ALGTS 23

You should never let your guard down until you are safely within the ranks of your allies.

Rashidi Voltaine took a heavy step through the front door of his home. Beside him, a servant gave a quick bow, ready to accompany him. They always did that, like as if he couldn’t attend to himself. With a tired hand, he waved the servant away.

It was getting dark, and the candles along the walls and in the chandelier were already alight. With an uncharacteristic sigh, he made his way up the stairs to get this blasted coat and boots off.

Things were looking unreliably stable as of now for Rashidi’s family. His allies were changing, with some of them choosing to distance themselves from him and new, entirely untrustworthy families doing their best to align themselves with the Voltaine household. Families that had previously kept a very deliberate distance from him. He gave a sigh. Recently, he’d been sighing a lot more than normal.

Rashidi walked into his room. A large, adequately decorated room that was not really a room in his opinion. This was the “sitting room”. An area where he could lounge and relax, have some food, do whatever. Beyond the huge white wooden doors on his left was his “bedroom”, which was more than large enough to do everything he wanted in the “sitting room” plus sleep and dress. Oh, there was a “dressing room” too, which was close to but not exactly a part of the “closet”. Every time he walked in here, he felt tired. So many rooms.

Well, whatever. Pulling off the fur coat and wool scarf he had had on, Rashidi went about looking for his usual clothing. Cotton shirt and simple wool coat. Anything other than boots. Maybe a longer wool coat for today? It was warm in the manor, but not warm enough to go around without a coat. At the end, he chose the shorter, simple one. He hated to get too hot. After gathering the necessary items, he began to shed off the layers of clothes on him. First the large fur coat, then the thick wool coat beneath, then the thinner coat. He would never get used to how many layers Fortane culture required of its people. Entirely too many if anyone were to ask him.

Now that he was comfortably dressed, he decided to look for food. Ah, no no. Not look for food. He didn’t “look for food”. He asked someone to get him this or that, whatever he wanted to eat.

So he headed down to the dining room. This was where his family could all eat together. As of now, however, there was nobody there. Where was his wife? Or his daughter? He should ask after his son as well.

A servant came by, giving a bow. They were quiet, and nearly caught Rashidi by surprise. “Is there anything you would like to eat today, Your Lordship?”

Absently, Rashidi scratched as this cuff link. “Something hot, not really filling. Maybe some soup.”

“Very well, Your Lordship. I will bring it to you shortly.”

He gave a curt nod, and the servant glided away.

Ever since the completely unforeseen upheaval of the Fortane Royal family, things had felt like a fever-induced nightmare. The loss of their King, the disappearance of the Princess, five of the six heads of their Ducal houses dead. It was pure, unadulterated chaos. But not as bone-chillingly terrifying as their new king. The mere thought of that tall being, dark hair billowing eerily on an unfelt breeze as he floated down from a cracked glass ceiling made Rashidi shiver, even though the fireplace to his right was crackling. Back then, his mind had simply gone blank. That unfortunate day more than two months ago. He remembered it raining glass, dangerous shards sparkling almost like little stars in the night. A frightful yet strangely beautiful descent, and in one swoop, their entire lives were overturned. At that moment, his mind had simply accepted it.

We are all going to die.

The fear was so intense, he hadn’t even considered doing anything other than keeping his eyes on that being. Everything had gone quiet. He had gone numb. Was he even breathing then? Now that he was here, alive and well, he knew that he felt ashamed. He did not think immediately of his family. He didn’t think of his wife, or his two beautiful children. He had simply thought that everyone in that room was going to die.

Until he had heard a discomfortingly familiar voice bellow from somewhere beside him. “This loyal subject humbly beseeches you. Spare us, and show us mercy.”

His eldest daughter Celestria had fallen into the customary bow given to the King. One knee upon the ground and hands held out to receive blessings.

“‘Loyal Suject?’ To whom? Did I not just kill your king?” The terrifyingly smooth, calm voice that replied was enough to stop everyone’s heart. A voice that sounded mildly amused, but entirely frightening, like something humming in the dark.

“As is with the Law of Nature, you have seized the throne for yourself through power alone. You have overthrown the King, so now the throne is yours. I beseech you, show mercy to your subjects, O compassionate King.”

The memories brought a cynical, harsh snicker out of Rashidi. He had been completely incapable of doing anything at that moment, but his daughter had saved everyone’s lives right then and there. He was her father, but he had failed to protect her or her brother and mother. Sometimes, it still felt like a fresh, smarting wound. But he hadn’t had enough time to sit there and pitifully mourn over it. Immediately after, he had had to deal with the nitty gritties. The politics, and the snide remarks, and the loss of allies and the influx of others. Five Dukes were dead, and most had heirs that were simply too young to take on their responsibility. The power vacuum they left, and the opportunists that had rushed to fill it. He had never intended to be one of them, those opportunists. But it was not for him to decide. A few days later, he had been contacted by three of the widows that his daughter had saved. They wanted to ally themselves with him and ensure that they would rise with adequate backing from a powerful household.

Except he was not the leader of a powerful household. He was an Earl. But he had come to understand the vast power the Voltaine house held over all the others through Celestria.

She had become the only human capable of talking, and thus influencing their new, otherworldly King.

So now, it was up to Rashidi to properly utilize this newfound power to help this godforsaken country.

He hated it.

He hated it so much. Seeing his twenty-one year old daughter head out to the palace every day, then come back withered and tired. She had been just a baby a little while ago, round-cheeked and mischievous. But now, she was possibly the only thing keeping everyone in the Kingdom alive. He wanted so badly to relieve that stress that undoubtedly sat on that girl’s shoulders. He wanted to so badly hold her and never let her endure the terror she was subjected to every single time she had to meet the King. He wanted so badly to protect her and never let her face any hardships. But it was not his choice. It never had been. Celestria had always had that air about her. Like she was fully independent and capable of surviving alone. Even when she was young and cute, dashing everywhere in an “unladylike” manner as her tutors had described, she still had overwhelming moments when she was... an adult. In the way she sorted out her problems or carried herself. It had worried him for so long.

But he could never say anything about it. After all, he had been unable to protect her when she needed it most. He had been unable to be there for her fifteen years ago, when she...

Rashidi shook his head in an effort to dispel those thoughts. No, don’t think of that. Don’t uncover that wound. Where was that soup he’d asked for? Turning with mild irritation to look for the servant, he spotted a head of big, coiling blond hair peeking out behind a wall.

“Haelan?”

When he called, the little boy dashed out of view for a moment, then appeared again, holding his favorite bear, a finger in his mouth. He was still sucking his thumb? Wasn’t he turning seven soon? With a soft sigh, Rashidi went about fixing his probably moody-looking face. Pasting on a wide smile and trying with his all to make his piercing golden eyes softer, he held out his hand to invite his youngest forward. “Come on now, Hae. No ‘hello’ for your father?”

At this, Haelan came towards him. Kids rarely ever walked, and that was true for the tiny six year old. His hair bobbed adorably as he ran over to his father. “Hello father.” He said, looking up at Rashidi with the biggest green eyes he had ever seen.

Although he would never show it, he was near-overwhelmed by how adorable his son was. That smile he’d quickly put on became a genuine one as he picked up the little boy, placing him on his lap.

“And how was your day?”

The boy’s cute nose scrunched just a bit as he thought. “There were no jumping grasses outside.”

“Jumping grasses?” His father asked in genuine confusion. What in the world was that? Was it a new plant he hadn’t heard of in this peculiar country?

“Yeah! The ones that jump around. They have legs that are bended. And they’re green.” Oh, how sure and confident Haelan looked as he explained what he was talking about.

“Do you mean a grass hopper?”

Haelan simply stared back blankly. He probably meant grasshoppers.

“That’s good, then. You can go play outside without having to worry about one jumping on you.”

Instead of the beaming smile Rashidi had been expecting, Haelan gave a sad scowl.

“I’m not scared! I... I wanted to catch one and show Lessie that I’m not scared of them! But they’re gone now and Lessie will say that I’m still scared.”

Oh... Rashidi gave a sympathetic nod. “Well, you’ll catch them when they come back out in the spring, alright?”

This seemed to sadden the boy, but he gave a tiny nod as he clutched his bear tighter. “Okay...”

“And what about Mach... M...”

Haelan beamed at this. Whenever he was a little sad, all you needed to do was bring up his stuffed bear. The stuffed bear with a name that could catch anyone offguard. Macha... Mack... what was the blasted thing’s name?

“Machiavelli! Me and Maki went out and we explored, and we found a really pretty stone! It’s black and red, and it’s a bit shiny! I named it Aurelius. Maki and Aurelius are really good friends now! And...” Rashidi happily listened as his youngest child talked and talked, happy and grateful to be able to witness the carefree joys of exploration and discovery.

This was what he wanted to protect most of all. And to achieve this, he would support this new demon of a king this kingdom now had to obtain the power he needed. All to keep this pure innocence beaming warmly at him now for as long as possible.