𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐍 𝐎𝐑𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐃𝐒. empires smp (in progress)

𝐗𝐈𝐕. CRUSHING REALIZATIONS

FORGOTTEN ORCHIDS   |   CHAPTER FOURTEEN

ATTICUS HAD COME TO EXPECT Jane's worry. It was no surprise when she insisted that he be placed on bed rest, especially after she pointed out that his fingertips were blue from the cold. Though it was a source of annoyance, he decided to follow her orders if only so she wouldn't be so anxious. He could do whatever paperwork needed his attention in bed, after all.

He had yet to approve the meeting between himself and the petitioner mentioned at the Council meeting, so he signed off on it without looking into the details, trusting that the Council had figured those out before even bringing the issue to his attention. There was a stack of papers on his nightstand, all of them waiting to be signed yes or no by him, and at the top was an envelope, a familiar royal stamp sealing it shut.

Atticus bit back a sigh, opening the letter with a roll of his eyes. He decided to read it because if nothing else, it would cure his boredom. Sausage's elegant handwriting greeted him, grandiloquent in its cursive. He hated the sight of it, but after a moment leaned back to read it, wishing he'd thought to bring his glasses to bed.

Once again, an alliance proposal disgraced his eyes.

Foxling,

I hope this letter finds you well. I am asking you to consider an alliance between Vulpesetrra and Mythland. Before you discard this letter, I hope you'll see reason within my words and read them. You don't have to give an answer right away, but I eagerly look forward to your response.

As I'm sure you're aware, Mythland has many allies that will prove useful in a time of war. We are allied with the Crystal Cliffs, the Grimlands, House Blossom, Gilded Helianthia, and the Lost Empire. These alliances have been in place for years; I have good standing with these rulers. If you were to take up an alliance with Mythland, it would be easier to ally yourself with the same nations that I have.

I'm currently negotiating with the Ocean Empire and a few others. I believe we'll soon come to an agreement that will benefit Mythland and the rest. If you join an alliance with us early, you won't have to ally yourself with the weaker empires in a time of war. We both know the Cod Empire would do you no favors if our lands fell into war.

You shouldn't align Vulpesterra with the weakest empires in the land. I'm aware you've set up a trade deal with the Cod Empire, and while I think it's a lost cause for the Codfather, it shows that you're able to negotiate for the better of your empire. You should consider what you're giving to the Codfather, though—he's not exactly giving anything in return. Unlike when he gave away supplies to other empires, which made him a fool. He's both too generous and too daft to recognize what's best for his kingdom, which is why the Cod Empire will fall into ruin soon enough.

Atticus crumpled the letter into a ball without finishing it, having had enough after the paragraph of only insulting the Codfather. He was sure he caught another paragraph of insults toward the Copper King, but didn't dare smooth out the paper to confirm his suspicions. He'd had quite enough of King Sausage's words.

How dare Sausage insult the Codfather's character as he did? A fool, for being too generous? Atticus had never heard such a flattering insult before, but it was ridicule all the same. If there was anything he'd learned about the Codfather, it was that the man being too generous made him better than a joke.

The anger simmered under his skin as he threw the letter aside, running a hand through his hair to calm himself. The fury he felt on the Codfather's behalf wasn't healthy, not when he was meant to be resting. But the knowledge that the Codfather deserved more respect made Atticus want to draft a letter to Sausage to tell him exactly what he thought of the so-called king. The words Atticus wanted to say would start a war with Mythland, that was definite. But Atticus still thought about it.

Atticus paused, realizing what he was considering. A war. For a man he wasn't in an alliance with. Maybe he was sicker than he thought, the cold having changed his entire thought process.

Atticus pushed his work aside, laying down and looking up at the vaulted ceiling. It helped to clear his mind, usually, when he needed to turn his thoughts into something more productive. But this time, his thoughts stayed the same—angry and concerned. He wasn't sure exactly what was going on with himself, or why he was so concerned about why the Codfather—

Ah. That was why.

"Idiot," Atticus sighed to himself, closing his eyes.

He was starting to admire the Codfather as more than a friend.

The memory of the man's hand on his face, holding him oh-so-gently for longer than was needed, had been replaying in Atticus' mind since it happened. Their other interactions, too, were beginning to creep into his thoughts whenever his guard was down. It was easy to recognize the forming of romantic feelings that he'd only ever had once before when he had time to himself to actually think.

Atticus wasn't so proud that he couldn't admit it when he was beginning to form a crush. He knew himself better than that. He also thought he knew better than to fall for someone he didn't even know the real name of, but that was an issue for another time. There were more pressing matters at hand.

If Atticus was any more insecure, he would jump to conclusions and believe his feelings were unrequited. But if he was anything, it wasn't a fool; he's sure that the Codfather was beginning to feel the same toward him, too, or has for a while. The way he'd pulled away from Atticus by the fire spoke volumes, and Atticus would have had to be blind to not notice the way the older man's eyes lit up whenever he saw Atticus.

Atticus allowed himself a private smile at the thought of the Codfather's expressions, shaking his head almost fondly before the smile fell away so Atticus could face reality.

Relationships were already difficult for Atticus; his best friend has been acting as his mother since he was born, and his actual mother had been distant. Friendships didn't come easily to Atticus either, and he wasn't sure he even had a friend, to begin with. To add in the possibility of a romantic relationship. . .

Atticus is not one to seek out relationships. He did not want a romantic partner, especially not one who ran another empire. He'd made his feelings toward marriage and alliances clear for too long to throw it all away for a possibility. He was better than that. He had to be.

You will push him away, Atticus told himself with a nod, even as his heart sunk at the thought. Distance would do both him and the Codfather some good. It would make their lives easier. If he confessed or became even closer to the Codfather, the older man would want to pursue a relationship that would only hurt both them and their kingdoms in the long run.

Atticus' chest hurt at the thought of outright stopping contact with the Codfather, though. A compromise would have to be made—he would allow himself to still speak with the Codfather, but limit their interactions. He would have to keep their meetings short and professional. No sticking around longer than he needed to; no smiles that shared his feelings; and no more running toward the Codfather when things were going wrong.

It would hurt both of them, but it was the only way to make sure things continued to run smoothly. They had to maintain their professional images.

Pushing back the growing regret, Atticus got back to work, drafting a letter to King Sausage to decline his request for an alliance.