Everyone she passed along the halls stopped and bowed in greeting. Nheera didn’t acknowledge a single one of them. Her eyes remained fixed ahead, and the only sound that followed her was the steady rhythm of her footsteps echoing through the silence she left in her wake.
Azul fell into step beside her just as she pushed open the doors and stepped into the courtyard.
"You just left Father’s chambers, didn’t you?" Azul drawled, easily matching her brisk pace. His gloved hands were tucked neatly behind his back, his posture relaxed, eyes sweeping across the grounds with a kind of detached disinterest. No guards followed. They had made certain of that.
Nheera didn’t slow and her tone was curt. "Why do you ask?"
"Because you’re always in a foul mood after speaking to him," he answered smoothly.
Nheera both admired and resented how observant Azul could be. Nothing ever slipped past him.
"It matters not," she said dismissively, hoping to steer the conversation elsewhere. She despised discussing her marriage with her sons. They had gleaned the basics, of course, children were always far more perceptive than parents gave them credit for but there were layers of darkness beneath it all. Secrets buried too deep to unearth and If they were ever exposed to the light, they could shatter everything. No, so truths were ant to remain hidden, carried to the grave in silence.
The sky above was streaked with bruised violets and molten orange as the sun dipped beneath the horizon. Evening had fallen like a shroud, and lanterns flickered to life along the stone paths, their warm glow casting long, distorted shadows across the courtyard. The scent of night-blooming jasmine lingered in the cooling air.
There was no one else in the courtyard aside from them as they walked side by side in companionable silence. Azul was the first one to break the stillness.
"Father hasn’t appeared in court for days," he said, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "The lords and ladies are beginning to talk."
Nheera scoffed under her breath. "All they ever do is talk. You, of all people, should know better than to lend weight to court gossip."
He turned his gaze toward her, watching her with cool amusent. "Then perhaps the king’s absence is... strategic. A need for rest, maybe."
There was sothing unreadable in his tone. A flicker of sothing darker passed through his eyes. It was there one second and gone the next.
"Or perhaps," he continued, his voice soft as aged whiskey, " It’s the beginning of sothing more permanent?"
Nheera slowed, then ca to a complete halt, her gaze fixed ahead.
"Permanent?" she repeated, her voice thoughtful. "Now wouldn’t that be a tragedy. One that only a few in Lamora would truly mourn."
She wasn’t sure if their minds were aligned, but Azul’s next words confird it.
He laughed, low and quiet, the sound curling with sothing bitter beneath the surface. He stepped closer, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper.
"Including the queen, no doubt. A dutiful wife, mourning her husband with all the expected sorrow."
Her face turned toward him, half-obscured by the shifting shadows of the tall hedges.
"I didn’t mourn my father when he died. What makes you think I would shed a tear for the king when the ti cos?"
Azul gave a quiet hum of amusent. "Because I know you’ll find a way to make it believable. And I suspect your grief, when it cos, will be brief... and remarkably useful."
*****
Later That Night
King Zeriel stood on the balcony of his private chambers, his hands gripping the iron railing as if the cold tal might anchor him. The breeze ruffled the ends of his robes, carrying with it the distant sounds of crickets and the faint whisper of leaves rustling in the night wind.
Behind him stood Laheir who remained silent, and watchful.
For a long while, Zeriel said nothing. He stared out across the palace grounds, where guards patrolled beneath the moonlight. When he finally spoke, his voice was rough with tension.
"Nheera is becoming a problem."
Laheir arched a brow, though his expression remained asured. "Is she now? What led you to that conclusion, if I may ask?"
Zeriel cast a fleeting glance over his shoulder before turning his gaze back to the darkened gardens.
"She’s getting too bold. Sticking her nose into matters that don’t concern her. Stirring chaos in the court with every word she utters." He exhaled sharply, jaw tight. "Frankly, she’s beco a pain to deal with."
Laheir allowed himself the faintest smile, though his voice remained smooth. "And what do you intend to do about it, Your Majesty?"
Zeriel didn’t respond imdiately. His grip on the railing tightened.
"I don’t know," he admitted at last. "Lately, I’m not sure of anything."
The king’s eyes followed a pair of guards moving along the outer walls of the garden. His next words ca quietly, almost as though he were speaking to himself.
"I should have chosen my heir by now."
Laheir tilted his head slightly, watching him with keen interest. " I don’t see the need for you to rush and make a hasty decision when you still have so many more years left in your reign. You’re far from the grave, my king."
Zeriel didn’t answer, but the heaviness in his silence spoke volus.
Laheir stepped forward, his voice low and knowing. "Besides, your sons... they’ve yet to prove themselves worthy of Marzen’s throne. They’re all still so young. Let them have ti to grow, ti to reveal who they truly are."
The king nodded slowly, as though the words offered so small comfort. But Laheir’s cunning smile, hidden in the dark behind Zeriel, told a different story.
" You should stop entertaining such somber thoughts." Laheir added.
" It’s hard to do so when you have the weight of an entire nation balancing on your shoulders." Zeriel said. It was hard but he reminded himself that this was everything he ever wanted. To be a king, to rule over Lamora; he wanted it so badly. And when those things were not freely given to him, he took them by force.
Reviews
All reviews (0)