Requiem for a King [MxM]

Small Talk

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Your Majesty." The woman extended her hand. "Lady Beatrix, newly appointed High Councillor of Hedalda."

Jaredeth returned the gesture with his five hundredth polite smile for that night. "The pleasure is all mine, my lady. How are things in Hedalda? I trust you're adjusting to your new position well."

Beatrix's smile faltered for the barest moment, and the light in her grey eyes dimmed. "It's... not what I expected, but I'm doing all I can. The situation with the netherborne is a little rougher than I was told, but I believe a stronger presence from the Divine City will turn the tides in our favour."

Jaredeth grimaced. Netherborne. He didn't know what god of mercy had blessed Avaly, but they had seen none in quite some time. Not since his father was a boy. "Well, should you need any assistance, reach out to me."

"Thank you, your Majesty. Avaly's continued alliance has been invaluable." Beatrix gave him another smile and tilted her head forward in a mock bow. "Well, I'll let you continue your rounds." She turned and plucked a flute of wine from the tray of a passing server, before disappearing into the crowd.

Jaredeth hated parties. Or, more specifically, he hated hosting parties. He hated being the centre of attention, the one everyone wanted and needed to talk to. He hated listening to their woes and having to be diplomatic, pretending to care. It all felt so fake, so forced. He wanted nothing more than to go outside and catch a moment of fresh air. Alone.

But that wouldn't be very king-like of him. No, the King had to walk around with his head held high, assure these people he knew what he was doing. He'd attended many of these gatherings as a prince. He'd stay in one corner of the room with only the people whose company he could tolerate for more than a few minutes.

And then his father would hit him with a look, and he'd have to be paraded around the room, introduced to this royal or that diplomat, only to forget their name five minutes later. But even then the interactions were short, they held no real weight.

If tonight had taught him anything, it was that princes and princesses were royals in name only. They had, nor needed any sense of responsibility. Smile here, cut a ribbon to open some new road there. To strive to be a prince or princess was the shallow goal of a spoiled, pompous brat who wanted all the glamour of royal life with none of the baggage.

He looked around at the people clogging the ballroom, royals and ambassadors from nations near and far, members of his Council, family and personal guard. Smiling, laughing, revelling in the food, drink and merriment. He wondered if any of them knew or understood his misery.

A hand landed on Jaredeth's shoulder and he swallowed a groan as he turned to see what overeager diplomat wanted to talk now. To his immediate relief, he found the smiling face of Elaine instead.

"Hey." She took his hands in hers. "How are you holding up?"

"Well enough," he answered with a sigh.

"I was hoping I could steal you away for a dance. I think the crowd would eat it up." Her smile grew, and a dimple winked at him from her left cheek. His wife had a habit of doing things for appearances that he wasn't entirely fond of. But he played along to make her happy.

Still, he'd much rather a dance than make small talk. "Sure." He offered her his arm, and they stepped to the clear spot in the middle of the room where couples swayed to the music drifting from the upper circle.

"You look beautiful tonight," Jaredeth said, appraising the dark green dress his wife wore.

"I had the silk imported, and Miriam made the dress for me. I couldn't let anyone upstage me at my husband's coronation." She topped off her explanation with a smile. "And have you spoken to the ambassador from Tandridge yet?"

Jaredeth shook his head. "I'll get to her, eventually. I just want to enjoy a quiet moment alright?" His wife responded with a frown but didn't protest. They swayed together in time to the gentle strings. For a moment, with his wife in his arms and the music filling his head, he could forget his crown and the responsibilities that came with it. He closed his eyes, let the music and the floral scent wafting from his wife's hair envelope him.

But his peace didn't last more than a few minutes—the perks of being king. The tiny hairs on the back of his neck stood at attention as some secret sense alerted him of danger nearby.

Jaredeth cracked an eye and glimpsed his mother on the other side of the room in conversation with High Priest Lazarus—a combination that would surely cause a scene if he didn't step in. Those two were like sparks and dry tinder. He slowed to a stop, and Elaine frowned up at him.

"Is something the matter?" she asked.

"Not yet." He rubbed her arms. "Sorry. Could you do me a favour and find Torrian please? There's an urgent matter I wish to discuss with him."

Elaine frowned, but nodded. "Sure."

"Thank you." Jaredeth rushed from the dance floor and made a beeline to where his mother stood with the High Priest.

"Ah, your Majesty," Lazarus said as he approached. "You mother and I were just talking about you." The former queen rolled her eyes, but Jaredeth cut in before she could let a smart remark escape her lips.

"Nothing but good things, I hope." A fine sheen of sweat broke out on Jaredeth's skin as his mother took a sip of her wine while giving the High priest a sidelong stare.

Lazarus gave a tight smile that deepened the crow's feet at the corners of his eyes. "I was just telling her that I'm looking forward to seeing the legacy you carve out for yourself. Surely one your father will be proud of."

"I raised Jaredeth not to seek validation from the dead," Genevieve said.

"And I'm sure his father raised him to be a man who can think and speak for himself."

"Alright," Jaredeth said. "Mother a word, please." He took his mother's arm and steered her to a less populated area of the room. "Could you please not let him provoke you?"

His mother gave him a withering looking. "I'm not going to ruin your party, son. It was just a little verbal spar. But don't let that snake get into your head. He has and agenda to advance, and he's going to use you to advance it. Be careful."

"I will, mother." He leaned down and kissed her on the cheek. "We'll talk later. Please stay out of trouble." As he turned away, he nearly bumped into Torrian.

"Needed some help?" his friend asked with a boyish grin.

Jaredeth nodded and flicked his head towards the doors leading to the kitchen. As soon as they were out of earshot of the partygoers, he spoke. "For the love of the gods, get me out of here."