Fourth Arc (Thorns of The Black Throne) - 491. Insecure King
Jane watched them quietly.
Angel asked, "Such as?"
"Perhaps delay herb exports by one quarter. Or increase silk tariff slightly in Pontus' favor for the first shipment."
Angel nodded slowly.
"Manageable."
Rose continued.
"And publicly credit Pontus' strategic position in the trade announcement."
Jane's lips curved faintly.
"He likes that."
Angel looked at her.
"You know him well."
Jane's expression dimmed slightly.
"I grew up watching him."
There was weight behind that statement.
Rose spoke gently.
"Would Seraphine interfere?"
Jane hesitated again.
"Yes."
"How?"
"She will test you."
Angel's eyes narrowed slightly.
"In what way?"
Jane inhaled slowly.
"She will attempt to… influence you."
Rose's gaze sharpened.
"Politically?"
Jane did not answer immediately.
Angel understood first.
"Personally."
Jane nodded faintly.
"She prefers proximity."
Rose's jaw tightened just slightly.
Angel's expression remained calm.
"She will not succeed."
Jane gave a small, almost sad smile.
"She may not need to."
Silence again.
Rose's voice turned firmer.
"What do you mean?"
Jane met her eyes.
"If she cannot influence you directly, she will create tension around you."
Angel leaned back slightly.
"Divide and destabilize."
"Yes."
Rose exhaled.
"Classic."
Angel's gaze moved between them.
"She will attempt something soon."
Jane nodded. "She doesn't wait long once she identifies a target."
The words lingered in the room long after her voice faded.
Then silence settled.
Not the comfortable kind. Not the quiet of allies who already understood each other.
This silence had weight.
Angel and Rose were both looking at her now.
Not sharply. Not accusingly.
But carefully.
They had caught it.
The undercurrent beneath her tone.
Bitter.
And tired.
Jane tried to straighten her posture, as if the simple act of sitting taller could smooth over what had slipped through. Her fingers moved to her sleeve, twisting the fabric gently between her thumb and forefinger.
Rose stood without saying anything. She crossed the small distance between them and sat down beside Jane instead of across from her.
Close.
Not intrusive.
Just… there.
The movement alone made Jane's throat tighten unexpectedly.
Rose's voice was soft when she spoke.
"Did he also do it to your late mother?"
Jane did not look up immediately.
Her gaze fell to her hands.
The candlelight trembled across her knuckles.
She nodded.
Weakly.
"Yes."
Her voice came out quieter than she intended.
"My mother… she always helped him."
A faint breath escaped her lips, almost a laugh, but without humor.
"She would suggest ideas to him at night. I heard them sometimes. Trade routes. Noble appointments. Festival reforms."
Jane's fingers tightened slightly.
"And the next day, he would announce them as his own."
She swallowed.
"And she would stand beside him. Smiling."
Rose's hand moved gently over Jane's, stilling the twisting fabric.
"She let him take the credit?" Rose asked gently.
Jane nodded again.
"She said it was easier that way."
Her jaw trembled faintly.
"She said a king who feels threatened becomes unpredictable."
Angel's expression hardened slightly.
Jane finally looked up.
"To be honest…" she hesitated, the words fragile in her mouth. "If not because Roric is the crown prince… and he needs reputation for the future…"
Her voice trailed off.
Rose's thumb pressed lightly over her knuckles.
"Your father would what?" she asked softly.
Jane exhaled slowly.
"He would have kept him small."
The room felt colder somehow.
Jane's eyes flickered with old memories.
"When Roric returned from his first real battle," she continued, "the court praised him. Soldiers spoke of his discipline. His leadership."
Her lips curved faintly, but there was sadness behind it.
"My father congratulated him publicly."
She paused.
"But that night… he was distant."
Angel muttered under his breath.
"I don't like this."
His tone was low, but firm.
Rose nodded slightly.
"Me neither."
Jane forced a small smile and looked between them.
"But it's only trivial matter," she said lightly, though her fingers were still trembling slightly beneath Rose's hand. "I mean… he's not evil. Or bad."
She said it quickly.
Almost defensively.
As if she needed them to believe it.
Angel did not soften.
"No," he said calmly. "An insecure king is dangerous."
Jane blinked at him.
He held her gaze steadily.
"He doesn't need to be evil," Angel continued. "He only needs to feel threatened."
Jane's lips parted slightly.
Angel leaned forward, elbows resting lightly on his knees.
"He could wage war out of nowhere," he said evenly. "Over something trivial. Over a rumor. Over pride."
The candle flame flickered violently for a second as wind pressed against the glass.
"Maybe just because he could," Angel added quietly. "Or to prove he still has power."
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