Eleven months later
"When did you bite off your tongue, sire?"
Lucien closed his eyes, smiling slightly. "When I was in Shahark. Because they wouldn't let me die."
"It must've been painful."
The scent of roses had lingered with him long after Estel had departed from Aesna.
He'd scrubbed the floors of his chambers, submerged himself in bath water, put on incense, and still the smell had stayed with him.
Just hearing her voice made the smell go away.
"No one is on my side, Thalia."
"I am, sire. I'm on your side."
Chuckling, Lucien turned over on one side. "What a sweet lie."
A hand stroked his hair. Such unbelievable gentleness. "I never lie to you."
Feeling the hand, hotness welled up to his throat.
"If I move a little to get closer to your touch...or open my eyes- I know you will go away. I will not beg for more of you. So please just stay a little longer."
A soft laugh came, followed by a light brush of lips against his cheek.
"Sire. I want to be with you."
Closing his eyes tighter, Lucien shook his head.
"You can have Karlieus. Hate me freely. Seek revenge on me. It matters not. I don't deserve your love."
Lucien flinched, feeling fingers gently comb through his hair. "Sire."
"Yes-"
"How mistaken you are." Her voice was so sweet, like lullaby. "You do not deserve even my hate."
Without warning, something cold splashed across his face. Gasping, Lucien snapped open his eyes.
Standing before him was Dehan, a bucket in his hands. Blinking water off his eyes, Lucien raised himself to a sitting position.
Right. He was in the temple. What used to be Yhun's temple.
Lucien took in his surroundings slowly as if it was his first time. Incense sticks were scattered around him, peppered with bits of ash and scorched paper.
Around Lucien and Dehan were ice cubes and pools of water from the bucket.
He was lying on the open pavilion in his training clothes, his sword and cane beside him.
With the bucket between his armpits, Dehan started hand-signing, sighing occasionally.
Do I really need to wake you up every time like this? It's winter now.
"I cannot awake otherwise." Wiping his face with a handkerchief Dehan handed him, Lucien grinned.
How realistic were the hallucinations this time?
Dehan's face crumpled slightly as he pointed to the incense sticks.
"Very good." Painfully vivid. "And your sister. Is she better?"
Much, thanks to you. She can almost run about now like she used to. Dehan grinned. She cannot believe her savior is the same person as the king she's been hearing about-
His grin fading, Dehan quickly squatted to pick the ice cubes back into the bucket.
"Hey, hey." Getting on his knees and picking up some of the ice cubes, Lucien nudged Dehan. "Don't you start behaving like...the others. I only have you and Matia."
At that, Dehan made a poof sound with his mouth.
I'm not like the other small-hearted cowards.
Just then, a clattering sound came from behind. Instinctively, Dehan swiveled around, sword in one hand and shielding Lucien with his body.
It was only a servant boy, perhaps twelve, thirteen- who'd dropped a mop.
He had a small frame, neatly cut hair- and a petrified face.
Upon meeting Lucien's eyes, the boy sank down to his knees.
"Y-Your Majesty- I- um- good morning, I mean- forgive me for the noise, if-if you'd allow it, I will m-mop up the w-water-"
"No need." As Dehan slowly lowered his guard while scanning the surroundings, Lucien took off his training shirt to wipe the water on the floor.
He'd only done that to show the boy that all was good. But somehow, upon seeing what Lucien was doing, the boy looked like he was about to pass out.
"P-please grant me m-mercy Your Majesty- I was a little late- I should've been here to assist you-"
Feeling the haze of the incense clear from his head, Lucien saw the boy, who'd gone flat on the floor and was about to hyperventilate.
Blinking, Lucien looked at Dehan, mouthing- What did I do? I don't know much about children-
Rolling his eyes, Dehan smacked his forehead. Tell him to go.
Perhaps it was his morning voice that was frightening to children. After clearing his throat, Lucien said simply, "Leave."
Now, the boy was sobbing and hiccuping. "P-please, grant me and my-my family m-mercy- p-please save our lives j-just once-"
Family? Lives? A bitter taste came up his mouth. Lucien wet his lips. "Boy. What's your name?"
"N-Nerem, Y-Your Majesty-"
"Hey, Nerem. Listen to me before passing out. I plan to train with this big fella, so I don't need this shirt. That's why I removed it to wipe the water. Okay? Nerem. Breathe. Breathe."
Nerem stared at Lucien as if he'd spoken in Shahark, worrisomely still.
"Um- leave. I mean." Rubbing the nape of his neck, Lucien corrected himself, "You may leave-"
"Thank you for your mercy, Your Majesty! Thank you!" Bowing at a dizzying frequency, Nerem retreated, leaving behind his fallen mop.
After Nerem had left, some silence fell over the pavilion.
Then, Dehan turned around, his mouth quirked into a sheepish grin.
I must shave my beard or something. Children always cry because of me. I'm not that scary.
Both Dehan and Lucien knew- it wasn't Dehan who had terrorized the boy.
Laughing mirthlessly, Lucien picked up his sword. "Keep the beard. It suits you."
***
Rubbing his temples, Lucien scanned the scrolls of documents before him.
"Is this truly the best you have, officials?" Removing his glasses and tucking them on his shirt, Lucien muttered.
"Should we bring a commoner boy before us and hear what he has to say? Do I need to deprive the entire palace of water, for you to come up with solutions better than those a seven year old can create?"
He could almost hear the stifled breathings of the officials as they all sat in their seats, eyes fixed only on the table.
"Official Eta. You are new. Give us a new perspective. Do you truly think the solutions I have just read out will be effective in case of a drought?"
Eta's lips drained in color, as he looked anywhere but at Lucien.
"Um- erm- Y-Your Majesty. We cannot help but admire y-your insights- we apologize that o-our solutions fall far short of y-your w-wisdom-"
At that, Lucien saw some officials wince. Leaning forward in the chair, Lucien wrapped his fingers around his cane.
"Official Eta. Do I pay you with tax payers' blood, sweat and tears to be a professional flatterer? What have you to offer other than kissing my feet?"
The color of Eta's face changed from bloodless to pink.
"F-forgive me Your-"
"I reject all ten of these solutions. Submit new proposals by eight-oh-clock tonight.
"I want five pages of explanation for each solution evaluating the feasibility and outlining the costs and benefits. A detailed timeline as well."
"Yes, Your Majesty." A murmur of voices rose from the seats.
"Next."
"Proof of Official Frekdri's embezzlement and illegal double taxation of the Resach town people has been found, Your Majesty." Winhita rose, eyes downcast. "We leave the judgment to you."
"Strip him of his position and all his assets, land and people. All of his assets will be converted to money and used for the building of the school in Geram."
Leaning back in his chair, Lucien pulled out a cigar.
"Exile him to Resach and sentence him to ten years' of labor serving the very people he robbed of. For five generations, his clan will not be allowed to take government positions."
With the flame of a wall-mounted candle, Dehan lit the cigar and handed it back to Lucien.
Taking a glance at the clock, Lucien rolled the cigar between his fingers. "Official Winhita. You do not have anything to report to me?
There was almost a physical change in the air.
The heaviness of it seemed to press down on Lucien, too, as all officials save for Winhita avoided his gaze again.
What would Thalia think, taking in this hilarious spectacle? Would she avoid him too?
"For the past eleven months I summoned all possible candidates and checked them, sire."
"I told you there is possibility she is disguised as a man."
Winhita dipped his head lightly. "That is why I summoned even the men, sire. From a broad age range.
"I summoned all men and women in their twenties in the entirety of Aesna for the past eleven months. I put up a portrait as well, with a large sum of money to be given for a report."
Flicking ash from his collar, Lucien took an inhale from the cigar. His chest was tightening painfully.
"So you're saying you won't be able to keep our promise, Official?"
Lies. Winhita was lying to him.
Shifting his gaze upward to the officials, Lucien felt his chest tighten further. Who here wasn't plotting against him?
His hand moving to the sword at his hip, Lucien bit the cigar, letting its smell spread sharply in his mouth.
Winhita spoke placidly. "Spies we have planted on Shahark's territories have found increased activity in their military bases, sire.
"It seems Queen Estel has been actively increasing the size of her armies for the past few weeks.
"If she launches a war on Heathera and Heathera's land near our borders is taken over, our security is in danger.
"If she launches a war directly on us, we might not be adequately prepared. Regardless of which country she prepares to attack, it is better for us to strike first."
The muffled murmurings of the hall quickly escalated to buzzing.
Letting his hand fall from his belt, Lucien took in Winhita's face, and then that of Ikan- who had barely spoken in meetings.
Suddenly, start a war against Shahark? What was Winhita's motive now?
"One more thing, Your Majesty." Winhita's raised voice rose above the indistinguishable mess of noise. "Lady Thalia might be in Shahark."
At the name 'Thalia', an instant hush fell over the hall again.
"Casarine took great care to erase tracks, sire. It took a long time, but I found traces of communication and transportation to Shahark carried out under her orders, just around the time of Lady Thalia's disappearance."
"Incorrect form of address, Official." Lacing his fingers together, Lucien took care to stifle the volume of his voice. "My queen has been restored to her position long ago."
"A slip of my tongue, Your Majesty. Apologies," rejoined Winhita tersely. "Her Majesty seems to have moved to Shahark before the current...cold war between Shahark and Aesna.
"Currently, not even a single merchant ship is able to move between the two countries."
"So you are saying the only way to get the queen back, is launching a war on Shahark." Lucien almost smiled.
"Two birds with one stone, Your Majesty. A military confrontation with Shahark is highly plausible, given Queen Estel's movements and the current status of cold war with the country."
"What happened to you and Yhun being Estel's closest friends just two years ago, Official?" Lucien smiled.
Thalia. A war. Thalia. A war. A perfect excuse for war.
"I beseech you to recall that no hard evidence of such a treacherous act has been found, Your Majesty."
"Ah, right. Apologies, Official. How scandalous." Stubbing out the cigar with his boot, Lucien gestured. "General, what do you think? Would you recommend a war?"
Rubbing his eyebrow slowly with a finger, Ikan was quiet for a moment. Then, he re-directed his gaze from Winhita to Lucien.
"Do you consider a war because of Her Majesty, or truly because it is inevitable to protect the people of Aesna, sire?"
Rhythmically tapping his cane against the floor, Lucien silently looked at Ikan.
For some time, only the sound of his cane filled the thin, stretched out atmosphere of the hall.
Thalia. A war. Thalia. A war. A perfect excuse for war.
"Because of Thalia." Lucien leaned his cane against the throne, a bitter smile teasing the corners of his mouth.
Thalia would hate his response. She would look at him as the officials were looking at him now. Like one would gape at a ghastly beast.
"Because of Thalia. The people of Aesna are a good excuse. You have grown old, General. Asking questions with obvious answers."
"Your Majesty." Even after being promoted from Official of Domestic Trade to Official of Trade, Quent hadn't gotten over his habit of raising his hand, as a child would do in class.
"Yes, Quent."
Quent's rotund smiling face was unchanged from two years ago. Right. Lucien didn't only have Dehan and Matia. He had the astonishingly changeless Quent too.
"I request a private audience with you afterwards."
"...All right. Everyone else dismissed."
** *
"The people of Aesna had to come up with a method to store food during summer, sire." Quent's round cheeks lifted as his smile deepened, taking in their surroundings.
"Because for the first time in a long time, they have too much food."
Flanked by Quent and Dehan, Lucien ambled along the streets of Geram.
Despite the cold, a group of children were running about in a ruckus, laughing, shouting and throwing clumsily created snowballs.
Thick in the air was the smell of freshly baked loaves and roasted meat.
Imprinted on the snow on the floor were the shapes of boots and shoes- instead of bare feet.
Lining the man-made dirt paths were metal poles, on which candle lights were mounted.
"The number of robberies and acts of indecencies have declined notably as well, because the country is so well-lit even late at night." Quent added with evident pleasure.
"You told me all this in the reports," muttered Lucien, watching a round-bellied boy- maybe six, seven years old- run around with a loaf of bread stuffed into his mouth, in pursuit of a snickering female friend.
The sight of small children who ate to their heart's content, laughing and running about. It looked like a scene from fairy tales.
"You've never properly seen all this with your eyes, Your Majesty. You've been riding through Aesna every day, but only to search for Her Majesty. Here. See how you've transformed Aesna."
"You requested a private audience with me to show me around Aesna?" Lucien raised an eyebrow, pulling out a cigar.
"You have earned the reputation of a bloodthirsty tyrant, sire. Killing all treacherous officials, exiling and punishing those steeped into corruption, without mercy. You have brought warmth to the long winter of Aesna at the expense of your reputation."
"Official. You've become even more loquacious. So what is it that you want to say?"
Quent didn't apologize. He only smiled, as if complimented.
"Why did you transform Aesna? Why didn't you simply enjoy the status quo, of having officials under your feet and Yhun in the dungeons?"
The winds felt especially scathing against Lucien's skin.
Shoving his hands into his pockets, Lucien shifted his gaze from Quent to the playing children.
"You have become like your role model General Ikan, Official. Asking questions when you already know the answers."
"You have made Aesna like this for Her Majesty. Because of Her Majesty. Because Her Majesty cared for the people of Aesna."
Circling the tip of the cigar in his mouth with his tongue, Lucien didn't speak.
It was like the harsh gales were getting even to his heart, despite his thick coat.
Even with his threat of a poison hanging over her head, Thalia had barged into his room and demanded for lower taxes.
The room in which Lucien was in with another nameless woman.
Pulling the cigar out of his mouth, Lucien glanced at Quent.
"Official. You are overstepping a line."
"It is true a war with Shahark some time in future is inevitable. But now-" Inclining his head, Quent spoke, quietly. "The war is unnecessary, and Aesna is still in a stabilizing state. You know better than anyone."
"Official-" Wrapping the coat tighter around his body, Lucien faced Quent squarely, but could not say anything else.
The three of them sat in silence facing the horizon separating Aesna from Shahark until the sun had gone down, and until the children had been called into their homes for dinner.
Flecks of snow danced from the endless black sky and lightly settled on Lucien's head and shoulders.
The smell of bread, meat and burning wood- the smell of home- brushed against Lucien's nose.
"Quent," Lucien muttered, looking skywards.
A pale crescent moon peered dow at them. The same moon Thalia was under.
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"The general taught me from young that the best war, is no war."
"Yes, indeed."
"...I cannot promise that the next...opportunity arises, I will not use the people of Aesna as good excuse to attack Shahark.
"So I entrust you and General Ikan to make the correct judgment." Lucien closed his eyes, and then, lay back, outstretched on the snow.
The dampness of the winter seeped through his coat, into his shirt.
Thalia. Thalia. Thalia. They had never seen the snow together. Or smelled this warm smell of home in Geram. Or lain on snow together.
He had to show her this new Aesna, created for her to live in.
"....Yes, Your Majesty."
"The moment you and the general tell me a war must be launched, I will head the army with great, great joy.
"Don't expect a peace-loving king. For I am a bad man." Feeling his eyes grow warm, Lucien draped an arm over them.
"Yes, Your Majesty." Lucien heard the trace of a smile in Quent's murmur. "Always at your service."