"Why did you do it?"
Catherine's words were spoken in a soft, non-accusatory manner. She stood fidgeting uncomfortably by the entrance of Chris's study room.
Chris wasn't sure how to answer her question but he was happy to hear her voice again. The pair had not spoken to each other ever since he forcibly kissed her in the palace courtyard all those weeks ago. The thought alone made him burn with regret.
Chris contemplated her question for a second longer. It was a vague question. He could play dumb if he wanted to.
One look at his best friend's piercing gaze told him not to. She knew him too well to buy into his pretense. She had personally sparred with him enough times to know that he never made careless mistakes like that. To play dumb was to insult her intelligence. And she did not take such insults well.
Since playing dumb was out of the question, Chris tried to divert her attention.
"I haven't lost a fight in awhile. I thought I'd try it out and see what the fuss is all about. Everyone else seems to be so fond of it. Yourself included."
Chris smirked, remembering the countless times he had disarmed her and the frustrated tempter tantrum that had followed.
"To be honest, losing is not much fun," Chris blabbed on.
Catherine rolled her eyes briefly before narrowing them at him, refusing to be sidetracked by his playful banter. Deep down in her heart, she felt a burst of warmth. Her friendship with Chris was slowing mending itself.
But she still needed to know why he willingly sacrificed his pride and gave Jase the opportunity to win the fight.
"Why?" she persisted.
"Because I want you to be happy," he replied, his expression sobering. The sadness in his eyes was palpable, but the pain that had been lurking behind them for weeks was gone. His sacrifice had set him free.
Without even realizing it, Catherine had crossed the length of the room. It was as if the invisible bonds of friendship were drawing her towards her childhood best friend.
"I'm sorry for forcing you to love me." Chris's words were laced with sincerity and regret.
"I do love you," Catherine protested.
"I know." Chris reached out and patted her head affectionately before pulling her into a brotherly hug.
Everything about Chris felt familiar to her, from his smell to the hole in his shirt.
Catherine rested her head on his chest. absentmindedly tracing the old scar on his forearm. The uneven mark was faded, much like the diagonal scar across Jase's chest. Faded scars carry with them stories from the past, or in Jase's case, secrets.
She knew the origin of every scar on Chris's body. She had cleaned and sewed up many of them. A few minor ones she had inflicted on him herself. The more recent ones during practice and the faded ones during their childish fights and fits of annoyance
The scars on Jase's body, however, were a mystery to her. Catherine wondered if she would one day find out where they came from or how much they had hurt. If only the stubborn stranger would share his past with her.
"Why are you tickling my arm?" Chris asked, turning to look at where she was tracing his scar with her index finger.
Raising an eyebrow, he asked "10 years later and you're finally ready to apologize for stabbing me with a fork?"
"You made fun of the way I looked in a dress!"
A knock interrupted Chris's reply.
"Sir, the king has summoned you." A young pageboy informed Chris.
"My father summons you more than he summons me." It was Catherine's turn to raise her eyebrow at Chris.
"Of course. I'm the responsible older child he never had."
"I will stab you with a fork again!"
Chris looked at Catherine. Fierce protectiveness burned in his eyes like a torch.
"I will be the older brother you never had." His tone was no longer playful.
Catherine could easily decipher the underlying meaning of his words. It was Chris's polite way of saying: I will beat Jase into a pulp if he ever hurts you.
~
"Why did you do it?"
Chris blinked. Was be being asked the same question again? Were his acting skills so horrible that no one actually believed he lost the fight?
"Do what, Your Majesty?"
King Damian grunted. With a wave of his hand, he signaled to his guards to leave them alone for a private conversation.
"Sit."
Chris sat obediently in the large oak chair in front of the king's desk. He felt once again like a young boy who was about to be punished by his uncle for sneaking into the kitchen at midnight.
"Why did you let Sir Bretson win?" King Damian's voice was deceptively calm. He had put significant thought and effort into organizing the tournament and the ball for his daughter. He expected a son-in-law as his reward.
"I want Catherine to be happy," Chris replied honestly.
Anger blended into confusion. King Damain asked "And you don't think you can make her happy?"
"I can." Chris nodded slowly.
"But?" King Damian prompted, sensing that Chris had something else to say.
"But I love her."
If the king looked confused before, he now appeared completely bewildered. His thick eyebrows knitted together, forming a bushy line across his forehead.
He was a righteous ruler and a man of war, not an expert on love and relationships. In the early days of his own marriage, he had thought that nothing and no one could be more confusing than his wife. But after Catherine and Calla matured, he realized that young women were infinitely more complicated. Uniting forces with his wife, he battled against their raging hormones and strange logic. And now, Chris, a dependable young man with a sound mind was sitting before him uttering ridiculous gibberish.
"I'd rather see her happy with another man than unhappy by my side. Love is unselfish."
Chris's gibberish started to make sense.
"You are a good man, Chris. Much like your father." Then, as if his mind had just registered the first part of Chris's reply, the king's eyes widened. "Happy with another? There's another?"
"You would have to interrogate your own daughter."
King Damian groaned inwardly at the thought. He would deal with Catherine later. He quite liked his study the way it was. Neat and orderly. Catherine had a tendency to swipe at his books when agitated.
In the meantime, he had grave matters to discuss with his knight commander.
"Is there something else, Your Majesty?" Chris asked, reading the look in the king's eyes.
King Damian nodded grimly and Chris sat himself back down on the oak chair. This time, he no longer felt like a child, but like a commander bearing a heavy load of responsibilities.
"Amice has returned. According to his reports, the clan of Haters from Lisbeth moved to join another clan in Jasper after the disappearance of their leader. They were exiled for disrupting the peace in Lisbeth. Their motives remain uncertain. Patricia Morgonson and her daughter have vanished. I need you to assemble a team of our best trackers to hunt for them. They will be charged with treason and publically hanged for their crimes."
Anger and determination rose within him as Chris recalled how the Hater woman had almost poisoned Catherine.
"I will personally see to it, Your Majesty."
Chris wondered for a second if he should ask the question that has been on his mind ever since he joined the King's Circle. It was a question on the minds of many. But few had the courage or the opportunity to voice it.
For many years, the Esyrians blamed King Damian for the death of their beloved King Edmund and Queen Talia. They were outraged by their enemy's unscrupulous schemes to conquer their land and home.
Although many Belleranians defended their king's honor, no one was completely certain that King Damian had not in fact ordered the murder. Within the kingdom, the Haters, former Esyrians who lost their land to Bellerania during the war, gained influence and continued to cast doubt on King Damain's integrity.
Strangely, King Damian had never publically denied the accusations. Despite that, his people had faith in his leadership and would never question his authority. He was a good and gracious king. Many believed that if he was responsible for the murder, he must have had good reasons to justify his actions.
Those were dark times. Bellerania was located in a valley bordered by mountains. The kingdom lacked important natural resources, such as metal and coal. In order to survive, they relied heavily on farming and profitable trading. Around the time of the war, prolong drought severely diminished their harvest and people were on the brink of starvation. The dire situation was made worst by spontaneous, uncontrollable forest fires that threatened to incinerate the homes of the villagers and destroy the livelihood of carpenters and craftsmen.
Under such grave circumstances, King Damian desperately needed to expand his kingdom and territories. He had been eyeing the richly blessed Esyrian lands for years. Esyria was also located strategically by the sea and in control of popular trade routes.
"Your Majesty, if I may be so bold to ask, did you order the deaths of the monarchs of Esyria?" Chris asked quickly before he could change his mind about it.
King Damian paused. His eyes glazed over as if recalling a buried memory.
"No. I didn't."
Chris hadn't realized that he had been holding his breath. "But why didn't you tell the people? You never publicly discredited those lies."
King Damian shook his head. "The Esyrians would not believe my word. They had no one else to blame the murder on. And I am the logical suspect."
"But your own people?" Chris argued.
"They are free to believe what they want to believe. Do they think I killed the Esyrian monarchs?"
"No, Your Majesty. Your people love you and are fiercely loyal to you."
King Damian nodded. "Actions speak louder than words, Chris. And... there is another reason why I didn't make a public declaration."
Chris could sense that the king was about to unleash a heavy burden.
"My conscience was tainted. I could not righteously deny those claims because I had originally planned to murder the Esyrian monarchs. It was a desperate time. We couldn't risk losing the war against Esyria. We desperately needed their land and resources. And as a leader, I had to make a decision to improve our chances of survival. I had to do everything in my power to ensure the comfort of my people."
"I realized that the world isn't divided into black and white, good and bad, right and wrong. Certain things are grey. Certain decisions are good for some and bad for others. Certain actions are neither completely right nor completely wrong. Sometimes in order to guarantee the survival of some, one must be willing to deliver pain to others."
"These are the burdens of a leader," King Damian smiled grimly. It was a smile belonging to a man who had accepted his fate and duties. "For the sake of my people, I was prepared to sacrifice my principles and morals."
"But you couldn't go through with it?" Chris asked.
"No."
"We still managed to win the war."
King Damian shook his head. "Nobody wins a war, Chris. One side merely loses more than the other."
The study room was silent for a long time as Chris took time to process everything. He could almost feel his back straining against the heavy burden. It was no easy task to hold so much power over the lives of others. His respect for King Damian intensified.
"Does Catherine know?" Chris finally broke the silence.
"About my shameful decision to murder sleeping monarchs?" King Damian asked.
"No. Not that. About... about what it means to be a leader."
King Damian's smile was sad and painful. "That girl... She finds beauty in this broken world. She sees people not as they are, but as the best that they could be. She will want to bring good to all. And when she fails, not if, because she will definitely fail, it would break her heart."
"Chris?"
"Yes, Your Majesty?"
"Promise me you will be there to pick up the pieces if I'm no longer able to."
Another chapter! Will be aiming to update at least once a week to make up for the years of hibernation :) Hope you liked it! Do comment and share your thoughts!