"I don't think we're supposed to see each other before the wedding," Marcus pointed out. Elly ignored him. The door opened to reveal Ness, her handmaiden, carrying in her stark white dress, the woman setting it near the divider his betrothed was apparently going to change behind. He shrugged. "Or you could just do whatever. I own the officiant, anyway."
Elly turned to him. "Not a priest, then? Kind of like a priest?"
"I guess it's similar," he replied. "Though it isn't a real priest. Just someone dressed like one to accommodate an old custom. I own him either way, and he has a very particular script that he's going to follow. What's going on?"
She huffed. "I'm stressed. Why aren't you stressed? We've barely known each other for two months and now we're supposed to be tied together forever."
"I'm a little stressed," he defended. She glared at him, Marcus raising his hands in response. "Alright fine, I'm not stressed. To me this is just a thing. Words and ceremony, being crowned King, all of it is just confirming reality. You control the army, I control the mages, both of us have a large amount of personal power. We already rule."
Elly turned. "I heard your father was coming."
"He is. Margret warned against it, but if my father wants to trade a few weeks of misery for placing the crown on my head, so be it."
"You really hate the man, don't you?" she asked, raising a hand before he could reply. The action drew attention to the faded scar running across its back, one he hadn't noticed before. "I don't blame you, nor do I judge you for it. Just something I've noticed."
Marcus hummed. "Hate would be the wrong word. I did hate him for a while, but over time the feeling just kind of left, and all that remained was apathy. He is my father by blood and law, yes, but he didn't raise me. Not really. Part of that is on me, I can appreciate that, but there are no deep emotional bonds that will soon be broken. No loving son grieving the death of his parent."
"That's a cold way of looking at it."
He felt his expression cool, turning towards the mirror. "He betrayed me in a way I can never really forgive. Indifference is the best he's going to get."
"And as I said, I'm not judging," Elly soothed, disappearing behind the divider. Ness joined her, giving Marcus a raised eyebrow. He returned it, making the handmaid huff silently and join her friend. No way am I getting bullied out of my own room. She continued after a moment. "My family was not perfect, I'll never claim otherwise, but cold it was not. Nor did we purposefully hurt one another. Not beyond the usual minor politicking, anyway."
Marcus shrugged, realizing she couldn't see the gesture and cleared his throat instead. "I'm an only child, so I wouldn't know. It was always me or nothing, especially once the King refused to remarry. He did so out of love, did you know? My mother was not a good political match, but he married her anyway. I used to admire that about him."
"Used to?" Elly asked, hissing a moment later. "Careful. It's fine if you think this is improper, Ness, but don't take it out on my hair."
He swallowed a snort. "Everything got colored by the betrayal. But enough about that. We have our own marriage to worry about. Are you sure you wouldn't rather wear armor? I think I could swing it if Helios played along."
"It's fine. I don't hate dresses, though you'll never hear me admit that again. Where is the Duke, anyway? I haven't seen him around."
"He's managing his own estate. He got back this morning for the wedding. I think it was a sign of trust, leaving us here alone to govern. Turns out this ruling thing isn't all that hard."
Elly snorted. "You just wait until everyone regains their bearings. The Barons are quiet for now, and Duke Hargraf is distracted trying to make his own army of Life Enhancement super soldiers, but soon enough they'll realize you're not going to stop. They will unify, most likely."
"Most likely," Marcus agreed. "And I was being sarcastic. Ruling sucks. It's hard, mostly unrewarding and no matter what you do people will get angry."
She tapped on the divider. "You got a bride out of it, don't forget, and I hear she's quite beautiful."
"Narcissistic, too," he replied, laughing. "And so forward. She even changes with me in the room. The scandal."
Ness whispered something, something Marcus couldn't quite hear, and Elly snorted. He let it be, focusing on his own state of dress and overall preparation. Not that there was much to do. Which was good, because his own servants had long since been fired. Or had quit his direct service, to be exact, since servants couldn't really leave the Royal Family and Marcus hadn't been that petty in his younger years.
He still felt it somewhat of an overreaction, the alchemic burn the man had sustained having been healed in hours, but all the same. Marcus learned to be self sufficient.
Then Ness stepped away from the divider, followed a moment later by Elly herself, and Marcus spent a second longer than necessary staring at her. The dress worked well, high-quality but not overly complicated, and he had no doubt he'd be seeing the likes of it on every woman in the castle for months.
But political advantage through mimicry wasn't what was on his mind right that moment, and Marcus turned away as he cleared his throat. "You look lovely. How much longer until we're expected?"
"Soon," Ness replied, sounding terribly smug. Marcus resisted the urge to frown. Elly he liked, Ness he wasn't sure about yet. "I will give you two some privacy."
Elly rolled her eyes as her handmaid left, causing Marcus to raise an eyebrow in turn. She sighed. "I think she hopes there is forbidden romance in the air. And don't worry, she'll warm up to you. Ness can be protective."
"I wasn't worried," Marcus replied dryly. "No offence to you or her, but I stopped caring what most people think of me a long time ago. Also, we are literally getting married. I don't think forbidden describes this situation in the slightest."
She gasped dramatically. "You would suggest procreative acts before marriage is not a sin? How terribly crass of you, and from a Prince no less."
"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. We both know no one actually cares, even among the nobility, and I'd think you're more likely to get stabbed than praised if you try to scold the common folk about propriety. We've both spent time with soldiers, we know what life is actually like."
"So we do. Such a shame, though. I was prepared to defend my honor and purity. Maybe slap someone, that's always fun."
"If you slap someone you'll break their neck," Marcus replied, gently pulling a comb through his own, fairly short, hair. He checked it in the mirror, confirming it was still the same light brown, and promptly stopped caring about it. "Are you ready?"
"Well, like you said. Not much is actually going to change just because we said a few words."
He turned, sighing. "You had something else in mind, didn't you? Some dream that never quite died? Forbidden love, perhaps, as Ness keeps insisting. A military wedding, even, in full armor and preferably just before a righteous battle. Anything that isn't a strange Prince with strange views and few feelings."
"You're not that bad," Elly assured, taking a seat. "But you're not wholly wrong, either. It isn't realistic, but dreams often aren't. I am a soldier, nothing is going to change that now, but sometimes I miss what I could have been. How I could have been. I don't trust easily, you know? I don't really trust you. Like you, perhaps, and I'm more than willing to work with you, but trust takes time. Time or extraordinary circumstances."
"And now we're getting married."
"And now we're getting married," she repeated, taking a deep breath. She stood, Marcus hearing footsteps coming a few moments later. "You have feelings, Marcus, same as everyone else. But you are also different, and you hold power. That is a combination I need time to adjust to."
He stood himself, turning to the door as more footsteps marched down the hall. Their Honor Guard. "And I never wished to be married, wishing to dedicate my life towards magic and all its wonders instead. But change doesn't have to be bad, and life does as it will."
She didn't say anything to that, Marcus moving towards the door after a moment. Elly followed, and the way down to the Throne Room was almost strange for the sheer normality of it.
Oh, everything was cleaner than usual. It was busier, the castle filled with guests from all corners of the Kingdom, and the Royal Guards were out in force. But if he ignored the bowing nobility, the faceless guards and wedding decorations, it felt just like taking a walk.
The Throne Room itself had been decorated, banners hanging from every wall and gleaming suits of armor arranged along the corridors, but perhaps most strikingly was the second chair. The second Throne, equal in make and size to the first. They stood together on a raised dais, ensuring that even when seated he and Elly would be above those below, and he was glad he'd insisted on it.
Elly was his equal, in combat and outside of it, and it could work no other way. She wouldn't tolerate being lesser, his nobility would riot if a foreign Queen took power, equality was the only solution.
Her taking the reins, and all the time-consuming idiocy that came with it, would have been perfect. But alas, she was too smart to fall for that trap, and so they would share in the great burden called ruling. To always be responsible, to always be looked at for answers, to always be blamed or lauded.
Marcus smoothed his face into a polite mask even as he felt his mood turn, striding through the room and stopping once he'd ascended the dais. Elly joined him, and then there was silence. He would be crowned King, they'd get married, then Elly would be crowned Queen.
But for all of that to start his father would need to arrive, and as the silence stretched, quiet footsteps echoed in the hall. They slowly grew in volume, the tapping of a cane joining it, and after a long thirty seconds the king entered the Throne Room.
It set off another round of bowing, and Marcus had to admit his father didn't seem nearly as weak as he knew him to be. Part of that could be attributed to the potions, but as much as Marcus would like to give alchemy all the credit, his father had a strong mind. A strong will.
Duke Helios walked behind the King, carrying two crowns balanced on a cushion, his footsteps completely silent. Marcus didn't have time to contemplate that, bowing lightly after another few seconds.
Elly mirrored him, curtsying, and soon enough the King had crossed the distance. Walked up the dais, one slow step at the time, but the man didn't turn. Didn't address the crowd. There had been a speech planned, dull but politically useful, but it seemed they were going off-script.
Marcus rolled with it, falling to one knee as his father picked up the first crown. The man spoke, tone hard but brittle. "My lords and ladies, I stand before you today for the last time. I say this not with sorrow, not with grief, but with pride. I say this as I crown my son the new monarch of our realm, as my father did to me, as his father did to him."
"I crown him with power. I crown him with responsibility, I crown him with obligation, but above all I crown him with duty." His father lowered the freshly polished crown, the speech shorter than it should have been, and continued after the crown set upon Marcus' head. "Rise, my son. Rise and never kneel again."
The King turned, tone growing in volume, and his voice resonated with power Marcus knew to be entirely borrowed. "Long live the King."
Three hundred nobles, the entire Royal Court, kneeled, and as Marcus rose his vision blurred. The ceremony continued, uncaring for the brief moment where he saw distant stars, and by the time he'd focused Elly was wearing a crown of her own.
The cheering sounded like the drums of war.
REPLACE WITH LINE BREAK p^o^q REPLACE WITH LINE BREAK
"Duke Hargraf and the Barons aren't leaving, and neither are their respective allies," Helios reported. Marcus hummed, keeping up the pace as they drifted from one valley into the other. The Duke looked around. "Is it wise to spend your first day as King away from the castle, your Grace? Especially without guards?"
Marcus nodded to a rooftop some distance away, a shadow retreating deeper into what little shade the early morning offered. "Two Life Enhancement capable members of the Fearless Fourteen have been shadowing me since the moment I left. I'm at least eighty percent sure Elly is having me followed in a nice way."
Helios grunted. "It seems the Queen has supernaturally strong warriors trained in stealth. That's good to know."
"Indeed. Like I said, I'm sure she's doing it in a nice way. To answer your non-question, I'm going to take a look at the orphanages before the demonstration later today. It seemed a good use of the morning, and frankly I want an unbiased view. To see if they're actually being used and how. The presence of the Royal Guard would make the homeless scatter."
"As you say, your Grace," Helios replied, bowing his head. His tone became softer. "Your father is dying. Not tomorrow, or in a week, but today. The potions allowing him to crown you King took what strength he had left."
Marcus hummed. "And I have a summon who will alert me if his vitals drop to deadly levels. I will speak with him before the end, Helios. Now, you have duties to attend to, and I have orphanages to check on. Tell Elly I appreciate the added layer of security."
The Duke bowed, turning left as Marcus went right. His two watchers kept following him, sticking to the shadows, and he rolled his eyes. Snapped his fingers, pointing to the floor.
He felt a little ridiculous doing so, not to mention the sheer arrogance of the gesture, but a few moments later the two guards jumped down. Landed on the very spot he'd indicated, both falling to one knee.
Alright, that was a little much even for him, but he supposed he did start it. And really, did they think he wouldn't feel the energy around them? In them? He could feel it within Elly, and these two weren't nearly as skilled as her.
"Get up," Marcus said, flicking his hand. "Up, up. I just want to set some ground rules if you're going to keep following me."
The pair rose, looking a little uncertain. The woman bowed her head. "Apologies, your Grace. The Queen insisted tha-"
"Elly can do as she pleases," he interrupted, holding up a hand. "And as I told Helios, I appreciate the gesture. But soon enough there won't be enough shadows for you to hide on the rooftops, and if the city watch catches sight of you it will become a whole thing. Hang back in the crowd, keep an eye out, intervene if the situation calls for it. And try to be aware my Kingdom is much more magically inclined than your own."
He had the Phantom Bat become visible, the Phantom Bat which had been keeping an eye on them in turn, and the two soldiers stiffened. The woman bowed again. "We will be more vigilant in the future, your Grace."
"Very good. Dismissed."
They saluted and vanished, Marcus shaking his head with a sigh.
The next few hours, at least, were peaceful. He observed the orphanages, noting the long lines but robust supplies, and even talked to a few of the more confident kids. He took note of a few things, mostly which people had been brought on board and shouldn't have, and as Marcus moved across his capital he had time to think.
Mostly on what to say to his father. Insults were beneath him, it felt childish to even entertain it, and the man already knew Marcus couldn't quite forgive him. But the dying were exactly that. Dying. What harm could a white lie do, especially one that brought comfort?
But that was wrong too. Childish in its own way. No. He owed the man honesty. Neither thanks nor forgiveness, but honesty. A truth.
But first the demonstration. Marcus turned away from the last orphanage, shooing away the girl staring at him with wide eyes. The same one who he'd shown a simple magical exercise to when the Barons had first arrived, months ago.
The Barons. Still need to deal with those. Them and Hargraf both.
Later. He was King now, which should have made the matter easier. It didn't. Not really. He held more power, yes, but he'd also lost the protection his youth granted him. The hesitation of his political enemies, not daring to strike too hard lest his father get more directly involved.
Marcus shook his head, summoning Vess as he stepped into the last set of alleys. She appeared as promptly as usual, immaculately dressed with some clever opening line on her lips. Then she paused, turning towards the deeper area of the alley.
He followed her gaze, finding three men holding knives. Marcus blinked, wondering how he hadn't spotted them before. How his eyes hadn't warned him of their potential danger.
His two watchers appeared, the woman stepping in front of Marcus as the man tore through the would-be thugs.
Thugs? No, not quite. Hoodlums? Also no. Just thieves? That feels like a generalization.
"You look confused," Vess said, watching one of the Fearless Fourteen break limbs. "I'll explain. See, you were about to be robbed. Probably beaten, definitely stabbed, maybe e-"
Marcus rolled his eyes, telekinetic limbs picking up the three idiots. Elly's guard stepped back as they were pressed against the wall, held upright by invisible force. He turned to Vess, raising an eyebrow. She pouted.
He walked towards the trio, opening his mouth once then closing it again. Marcus sighed after a long moment. "Alright, here's the deal. I'm going to heal you, and it's lucky that I've recently learned how to set broken limbs, and then I'm going to let you go. You, in turn, are going to seriously reconsider your life choices. Enlist in the army, get a shitty back-breaking job, do anything that's actually productive. If you don't, if you keep stealing from and hurting people, I'm going to send that man to finish what he's started. Nod if you understand."
The trio nodded frantically, clearly not sure whether to look at himself or the man who had been seconds away from killing them, and Marcus healed their wounds. It was good practice, actually, though he did leave some.
Pain helped to reinforce lessons, and in this case he felt they'd earned it.
"Come on," he said, letting the three sag to the floor. Vess walked past them without so much as a glance in their direction, joining him as he went deeper into the alley. "We have a demonstration to attend."