Requiem for a King [MxM]

Descent of Disaster

Jaredeth paced in front of the windows of the castle's observatory. Outside, the wind chimes hanging from the rafters swayed in the light breeze, their peals filtering through the glass. After making rounds through the castle to make sure everyone was comfortable, he'd come up here to look over the city and clear his head.

Quintus had left over an hour ago to check in on everyone. Amadeus was in the Cathedral bell tower, the most vulnerable station, while Cantrelle was on the eastern grounds near the cliffs. Calliope would take over for her once Cantrelle took Amadeus place. They were doing the brunt of the work, keeping the spore cloud at bay.

And all he could do was pace. Avaly, the kingdom his ancestors founded, the people he'd sworn to protect on the day of his coronation, were facing their darkest hour. And all he could do was pace. Even as a selfish prince, he'd never felt so helpless.

"Careful, son, you wear a hole in the floor." Genevieve stepped into the observatory, her bare feet silent against the wood floors. She held the hem of her silk shift aloft in one hand as she joined him at the window.

"You could've sent Torrian to get me," Jaredeth said, frowning. "You didn't have to climb all the way up here."

Genevieve gave a wave of dismissal, her gaze fixed on the purple cloud hanging over Avaly. "It's fine. I was feeling restless. I haven't seen the Calamity in so long, and yet it's found me again."

He arched a brow. He knew his mother wasn't from Avaly originally, but she'd never told him of where she came from. And his father never spoke a word of it either. But now Jaredeth knew, based on the bracer he still wore on his arm, her true home was somewhere in the desert.

"To think the very people Avaly shunned for generations are the ones who come to its aid at a time like this." She gave a small laugh. "Your ancestors are writhing in their graves."

Jaredeth gave his mother a sidelong stare. "Why didn't you tell me about the declaration to end the ban on necromancy when I took power? Better yet, why didn't father tell me?"

"That scroll is Avaly's best kept secret." His mother moved her gaze to him. "The last time a necromancer was executed, your father was ten years old. Three years later, they learned Reed was a necromancer. And... a lot changed."

Jaredeth's eyebrows shot up.

"As you know, Reed was the bastard son of your grandfather and his mistress—a wily, young thing, daughter of a merchant. Your grandfather hired her as castle staff; few knew his true intentions. When they learned Reed was a necromancer, she packed him up and fled in the middle of the night without so much as a goodbye. Your grandfather loved her far more than he loved his wife, but his mistress loved their child far more than she loved him. Needless to say, he was devastated."

"I take it they found her, though?" he asked.

"They did, after about six months. She was in a remote village in the mountain region of Kolir. And she refused to leave. Avaly was not safe for Reed. Concessions had to be made for her to return."

"The declaration."

His mother nodded. "Not just that. Your grandfather removed the High Priest from the Council and relegated him to a more advisory role, which gave him less of an excuse to be snooping around in castle affairs. It was a year still before Reed and his mother returned."

"Did grandfather ever table the declaration before the Council?" Jaredeth asked.

"Oh dear gods, no. That would've spelled disaster for your uncle. It was in subtle ways that your grandfather started distancing himself from the Divine City. He met with the Priests less, they weren't invited to major events, which of course made them more and more suspicious."