BURN

a handful of confessions

"They represent the interests of the Kingdom." says Weatherford. "They deserve to know."

"No they don't!" sneers Tedros. "They represent interests in fine clothes, wine, and their own personal estates."

"I have told you before that if you are unhappy with your current courtiers, you are at liberty to replace them." says Weatherford, infuriatingly patient.

"With who?" demands Tedros. "The entire palace is seething with them and their allies. There is no one else, and you thoroughly disparaged my suggestion at allowing Beatrix and Dot onto my advisory council."

"Lady Rotunda and Mistress Sherwood are not advisors, Tedros. They are your cosmetic team."

"And yet they've been briefed more extensively about me than most of the court. They give better advice than most of them, too." mutters Tedros.

There's a silence.

"We should get that leak fixed." Tedros says weakly, gesturing to the water. Weatherford ignores his feeble attempt at changing the subject.

"Just because you like what they tell you, it doesn't mean that it's better advice." he scolds. "I am happy to take your side on this, but you need to think practically. You cannot keep this from the court."

Tedros grinds his teeth. He knows Weatherford is speaking the truth, but he also knows that if the court are told about this, they will do everything in their power to get in his way. In a way, he can't really fault them-- he'd be scared, too. But they're not giving him a chance to show it could be less frightening.

He purses his lips, rocking on his heels.

"Give me until tomorrow to think about it." he says, eventually. "I shall come to you with my final decision then."

He winces internally as he says it. He often catches himself talking like this, and although it's expected of him, he finds it jarring. He sounds, to himself, like a kid just playing at being King, with big words and proposals he doesn't really understand.

"Very well." says Weatherford, stepping away from the window. "But I would like you to announce it to the court, not just to me. It doesn't do for a King to deceive his own advisors."

Tedros can feel a vein jumping in his neck.

"It works both ways, Weatherford." he snaps. "I don't know what you and Vanessa are discussing when you're shut up together all day, but--"

Weatherford looks unimpressed.

"You're really going to accuse me of conspiring against you?"

"I-- not conspiring, but--"

"Surely you've wondered why you've had to do relatively little wedding prep? The vast majority of it is falling to myself and the Queen. We're delegating the fun things to yourself and the Princess."

"I don't feel that Agatha thinks it's fun."

"Princess Agatha seems remarkably hard to please." says Weatherford. His expression softens. "I know you don't like Queen Vanessa, and I understand why--"

"She's clearly a terrible mother." snaps Tedros. "I overheard her talking about Agatha--"

"Whatever you've heard, I'm fairly certain I have also been regaled with." sighs Weatherford. "I do not approve of the way she talks about her daughter, but I know when to keep my mouth shut... and, I imagine, if I was magically inclined, I would not use that, either."

He shoots Tedros a reproving look, which Tedros ignores. He can't prove that snowfall was Tedros, even though they both know full well it was.