Requiem for a King [MxM]

The Night-Blooming Rose

They hadn't found him. It had been three days, and they hadn't found him. And Jaredeth had not slept well. His mind conjured up all manner of unsubstantiated theories. He's dead. Nothing but a red smudge against the road. He left. Octavia took him away.

He's dead.

Jaredeth glanced at the corner of his office, where Quintus' cross leaned against the wall. Surely, he wouldn't leave that behind. It was the only thing keeping Jaredeth grounded and sane while the combined city and castle guard searched the city.

Then again, Jaredeth hadn't known him for that long. Perhaps worldly possessions weren't enough to keep him in one place for long. Perhaps he'd hopped on a boat to wherever with his friend. Perhaps they'd never see each other again.

The thought stung him. Because Quintus was right. That moment, in the tower, when Torrian reminded him of who he was and what he needed to do, had given him clarity. They couldn't be more than friends. In the same way Quintus' immortality kept him from getting too deeply involved in affairs of the heart, Jaredeth's duty kept him away from his heart's desires.

Being King, the crown, the responsibilities, superseded all else. He couldn't choose his heart over Avaly. When duty called him, he had to go. When disaster struck, he had to lead. And Quintus deserved better than second place. Their brief fling had to remain just that.

But dammit if he didn't want more. Jaredeth wanted late nights talking under the stars and early mornings waking up next to each other in bed. He wanted shared meals and shared feelings. He wanted Quintus, even if it meant only holding him for one second every day for his fleeting few human years.

A knock on his office door pulled him from his thoughts.

Torrian poked his head in and looked around before speaking. "We found him."

Jaredeth shot up from his desk so fast, the chair rocked behind him. "Where? Take me to him at once."

"Easy." His friend put his hands up like he was trying to calm a wild animal. "We need to do this discreetly, remember? Our horses are waiting out back. Walk with me."

"Where did you find him?" Jaredeth asked as they walked down the castle halls.

Torrian waited until they passed a group of attendants headed upstairs before he spoke. "A residential neighborhood in the northwest of the capital. He and... his friend have been staying with an elderly woman there."

Anxiety tied Jaredeth's stomach into knots. Perhaps Quintus was just trying to protect his friend. She was the Night Blooming Rose, perhaps the most infamous necromancer, in a city known for killing them. But Jaredeth had hoped Quintus would trust him to protect her.

They emerged behind the castle, and a stable hand brought out their horses. Torrian's red mare and Jaredeth's jet black stud. They rode into the city, keeping to the narrow alleys and lesser-used byways.

The northwest side of time was home to the working class, those who owned little stands in the market or worked in the castle. Naturally, in the middle of a busy day when ships were returning and shops were getting back to their normal routine, it was almost empty.

Torrian led him to a stone house on the north side—a quaint two story home with bougainvillea growing down its side. They left their horses out front and sidled up to the wooden front door. A rose was carved in its dark surface, something Jaredeth would've found cute if he wasn't so nervous.

He took a breath and knocked on the door. Shuffling came from the other side, and the door swung open a moment later. Beyond the threshold stood a short, elderly woman, face wrinkled and back hunched by the weight of time. She held a basket of freshly clipped roses on one arm. Her face remained neutral as she looked back and forth between the men on her doorstep.