The Kept

The Request

The tales of the Cereban king's instability had seemed sensational before Nerys met him- the paranoid king who barricaded himself from his people for fear of imagined enemies, and executed his closest advisors on a whim. In reality, he was far worse.

He kept himself surrounded by no less than five guards at any given time, and there was a general sense of unease throughout the bright, airy palace. The servants were constantly in a state of near-panic, even on days when the king seemed to be in a good temper. Any misstep could draw his suspicion and accusations of sinners and spies within his home.

"That is a terrible idea," Nerys said, ignoring the frantic, silencing gestures coming from her father's Grand Vizier.

He was a thin, nervous man with a slightly hunched back and a habit of licking his lips before he spoke— the third to be promoted to the position since her arrival.

Nerys had been dragged from her bed for the midnight council and she, Enzo, and the Vizier were still in their bedclothes as the King paced the room and informed them that he was having second thoughts about her marriage.

"Prince Alrek of Haolaetia has offered a counter-proposal that is... intriguing," Niall said. "But you right, your marriage to Ithaam is still more beneficial."

"That's not—" Nerys said.

"For now," Niall concluded.

Nerys frowned.

"What does that mean?"

"It means that we will use whatever opportunities the gods present us, whenever the time is right."

"That is wise, sire," the new Vizier said in a breathless rush to prove his allegiance.

"My wisdom is granted by the gods, and their divinity was never in question," Niall said, staring down at the advisor. "Captain Enzo, how would you like a promotion?"

The little man looked back and forth between the king and captain of the guard in terror.

"I am honored, your highness," Enzo said. "But my place is between you and your enemies."

This response pleased the king, and increased the viziers obnoxious lip-licking.

"'Vizier' is a useless title for a useless position," Niall said, "Get rid of him."

One of the guards moved to take hold of the man, who started bawling and begging for mercy.

"Stop," Nerys said tiredly.

She did not care for the vizier by any means, but she had seen enough of her father's methods to know that he had just handed the man a death sentence out of annoyance.

The guard paused, hand still on the vizier, and waited for further instructions.

"Do you intend to obstruct the justice of the gods?" Niall asked.

"If the gods punished every foolish word they would hardly be just," Nerys said. "Don't harm him for being an insufferable sycophant."

"Wise beyond your years, and merciful," Niall said wonderingly. "You are a true gift from the gods, child. "

Nerys waited for the vizier to scurry from the room before resuming her argument.

"Why are we entertaining a proposal from Haolaetia?"

"You've expressed dissatisfaction with your current match, and as your father it is my responsibility to see that you are happy." Niall stopped pacing and stared out of the window. "Through some accident or another, you may find yourself a widowed queen while yet in the prime of youth. There is no reason you might not remarry."