Requiem for a King [MxM]

A Heart's Home

Jaredeth slouched as the guards escorted the last of his former Council out of the chamber. Five days of proceedings. Five days of testimonies. Five days of reliving the most nightmarish thing that had ever happened to him. Now his new Council would decide their fate. He'd begged mercy for Elaine, but the decision was ultimately up to them. He was King, yes, but he was also a victim.

And it wasn't just him who demanded justice. An entire detail of castle guards had been lost on that trip—mothers, fathers, sons, daughters. Their families deserved to see the culprits brought to justice.

Jaredeth looked towards the exit in time to see a castle guard escorting his ex-wife through the door. Elaine looked over her shoulder, right at him. Gone was the resentment he'd seen in her eyes during his visit to the dungeons, replaced by something he didn't get to read before the door shut behind her.

Her fate was above him now. He took his cape from the back of his chair and descended the dais.

Havers met him at the door, the lines in his face deep with worry. "Your majesty. A correspondence from the Divine City just arrived. I left it in your office."

A chill ran down Jaredeth's back. "Thank you, Havers. I'll see to it immediately." When he made it to his office, he met Torrian already there, lounging on the couch. He took off his crown and set it on his desk as he sat down.

"Has the Council decided?" Torrian asked.

"They'll decide by this evening. Sentencing will be tomorrow." The correspondence sat front and center on his desk in a cylindrical canister capped with the Divine City's seal—a silhouette of the Sizerene, the seat of power of the Priesthood.

Torrian eyed it with a frown. "We still haven't found who burned the Cathedral. I doubt the Divine City will be thrilled about you putting Lazarus on trial on top of that."

"I don't care what they think." He opened the canister and retrieved the rolled up parchment inside. He didn't recognise the slanted scrawl. Then again, he hadn't read many correspondences from the Divine City.

Dear King Jaredeth,

It has come to my attention that there has been quite a bit of unpleasantness within your kingdom. Not only was the Divine City's property damaged beyond repair, my priests' lives were put in mortal danger and you're accusing Lazarus of treason.

We've had a long-standing relationship with Avaly, spanning back generations. I'd hate to see any rash decisions on your or the council's part jeopardizing that decision. The netherborne grow ever stronger, and t alliances such as ours that keep humanity safe.

By the time you receive this correspondence, I will be on a ship headed for your kingdom. We can discuss any concerns you may have upon my arrival.

Sincerely,

Prefect Marius Iscariot.

Jaredeth breathed a laugh and passed off the letter to Torrian. His friend scanned it and chucked it into the wastebasket, his face contorted into a look of disgust.

"How would you like to proceed?" Torrian asked.

"As normal. When he comes to get Lazarus. We will give him Lazarus. So, what did you need from me?"

"We're having a memorial for the guards lost during the... accident. If your schedule isn't busy the day after tomorrow, it would be great if you came."

Jaredeth nodded. "Of course. I'd be remiss if I didn't."

"Alright." Torrian stood. "Well, I need to get the last of the preparations squared off. Then the Council asked me to help facilitate the executions. I have a busy few days ahead of me." He stretched his arms over his head. "When all of this nonsense blows over and we have a moment to breathe, we should grab a drink with Edmar at the Salt Barrel, for old times."

"Indeed, we should. I'll see you around, Torrian."

His friend raised a hand in farewell as he exited the office, and he relegated himself to the pile of paperwork that needed his attention. He'd planned to work until midafternoon, but by the time he lifted his head, it was dark outside.

Jaredeth breathed a sigh through his nose and leaned back in his chair. He was turning into his father. Burning the candle at both ends, neglecting everything and everyone to make sure this kingdom didn't implode. And at what cost? Was he even allowed to have a life outside of this?

He stood from his desk and grabbed his coat and crown. The walk to Quintus' room felt half as long as it should've, because his mind was plagued with thoughts and unsaid words. He met the attendants exiting the room carrying bundles of cloth and a washbasin. They bowed their heads as they drifted by.

Jaredeth stepped into the Onyx suite and saw Octavia seated by Quintus' bed. She read aloud from a small book in a language he didn't understand, her lilting accent waving the words together like a song.

She paused and looked up, one eyebrow arched. "Did you wish to sit with him?"

"I would, and I apologise for disturbing you." He set his crown on the chest of drawers.

Quintus lay on a cloud of black bedding and pillows. His chest rose and fell with even breaths and he smelled of nightshade. It had been over a week since he moved Quintus into the castle, and he'd shown no signs of waking up. Not that Jaredeth would know what any of those signs would look like.

Octavia stood and set the book on the bedside table. "Well, I'll leave you to it then." She glided towards the door, but stopped at the threshold and looked back. "You should try talking to him. That helps sometimes." And she was gone.

Jaredeth found himself taking solace in the fact that she didn't seem worried. He took the seat she'd vacated and rubbed his face. Quintus' hand lay still at his side and Jaredeth reached for it, but stopped short.

On one hand, Quintus couldn't reject him, on the other, well, Quintus couldn't reject him. They'd had sex multiple times, done things to each other that would make a brothel whore blush. A little hand-holding was fine. And yet, this felt closer somehow. Sitting at his bedside, all this worrying, it made Jaredeth felt closer to him than sex ever did.

And it made the simple truth of their relationship clear as spring water. He was too far gone. Quintus had wormed his way into Jaredeth's heart and made a home there. He'd filled all its empty spaces with his teasing and mischief and smoky laughter. There was no removing it without tearing himself asunder.

He'd be in shambles when Quintus finally left. But that was all the more reason not to deny himself a little hand-holding. He would take what he could get now and work out the rest later.

"Did I tell you of the time Edgar, Torrian and I got into a bar fight at the Salt Barrel?" he began, running a thumb absently across Quintus' knuckles. "It was a balmy summer evening..."

***

NOTE: I'm going to start updating faster in October. Two chapters every weekend instead of one. There are five chapters and an epilogue left. There are also some special bonus chapters--one those being The Kings Chorus (Jaredeth's chapter from Necromancy In D Minor) but from Quintus' perpective. Not sure if I wanna post those though.