The Gifts We Share [A Medieval AU]

Chapter Eleven - Questions Answered

For the rest of the day, Mark doesn't mind being locked up in his room. Staying put is a lot easier when you know you'll get answers than otherwise. The time passes slowly and the farmer attempts to consume it by reading and napping, although his mind always strays back to his mother's upcoming visit.

The day comes and Mark has to stop himself from waiting beside the door like a dog whose master has left. When the guard brings him to the library, the farmer has a bounce in his step as excitement wells inside him. He'll get the answers he wants and everything will feel alright again.

The guard pushes open the door of the library and gestures Mark inside. Instantly, he rushes in and smiles brightly when he sees his mother and King Seán sitting there, speaking softly to one another. Their voices cease the moment the farmer enters, but he finds that he doesn't care at all.

"Mother!" Mark exclaims, scurrying up to her. She glances at the king before standing and receiving his hug, a wide smile on her aged face. She appears much more ill than he's ever seen her before, which sends a pang of worry through him.

"Oh, my little Mark, it is so good to see you," she says, patting his back. "Sit down, sit down."

The farmer obeys immediately and takes the seat next to her. King Seán glances from mother to son, expressionless as always.

"Your mother was just asking about your treatment," the royal states, gesturing to her. He looks over at her, smiling a little and causing Mark to nearly choke. "You are contented, Ms. Fischbach?"

"Oh yes," she replies, returning the gesture. The farmer finds himself too distracted by the king's smile to say anything at all. It's the kind of grin you give to the old lady crossing the street or the child you pass on your way to the shop, gentle and kind. Seeing the king show that kind of expression blows Mark's mind.

"Excellent," King Seán says. "Now, your son attempted escape in order to get answers, so if you would be so kind as to give them to him..."

Mark's mother nods. "Of course, your majesty." She turns to her son, her compassionate countenance becoming one of a more serious nature. "I am very sorry we never told you, Mark. It seems we never really got the chance."

"It's alright," the farmer replies. "Continue."

She takes a deep breath, closing her eyes momentarily. "Our family has ruled a kingdom far from here for many, many generations. When your father was young, his grandfather was on the throne. When he passed away everyone was suspicious, but thought it was probably old age. However, after the death of his father, people realized that someone was targeting the kings and queens related by blood. Your father watched helplessly as one by one, his immediate family, the heirs to the throne, were murdered. We were already married when he was ordered to flee his kingdom in hopes of preserving the royal bloodline. I came from a farmer's family, so we took up a peasant's guise when we moved here. It worked for years, but the assassins caught up to us. Your father and brother were both murdered intentionally, Mark. It was not some disease that took them from us. Then, with your father gone, there was nobody left to teach you about your magical abilities. I am not related by blood to the royal family, so I do not have the same powers. We figured that if you and Thomas were unaware of your family history, you would have a lesser chance of being tracked."

Mark opens and closes his mouth a couple times, a flurry of emotions rushing through him. He isn't sure whether to be relieved that he knows, terrified that there are people who want to kill him, or angry that he wasn't able to grow up as a king and instead as a dirt-poor peasant.

"What kingdom do you speak of?" King Seán asks.

"Rubellus," the woman answers. 

Their conversation fades into the background as Mark tries desperately to grapple with this new knowledge. He had always assumed that Thomas and his father had died of disease, and learning that that is not the case makes him dizzy. He wants to go to his kingdom and retake his throne. He wants to learn how to use his magic. He wants to go home to the place he's never known.

"I will teach him magic if that is what you would like, Ms. Fischbach," King Seán offers.

"Thank you very much, your majesty," she replies.

Mark snaps out of his thoughts, glancing from the king to his mother. "I need to learn magic and go back to my kingdom."

His mother smiles sympathetically, her eyes filled with a deep pain. "Mark..."

"I have to go back! My throne is there!"

"Even if you were ready physically, dear, you would surely die if you tried to go back. Rubellus has been conquered."

King Seán glances at the mother and son, deep in thought. His blue eyes seem distant as he strokes his beard, lips pursed. Mark glances at him, waiting for some sort of approval telling him that going back is the thing to do.

"Thank you for the information, Miss. I will train Mark with his powers and keep you updated," he says. He makes a motion with his hand and the guards stationed at the door step forward. "Please escort Ms. Fischbach to the door."

The three of them stand and Mark's mother turns to her son, hugging him tightly. He furrows his eyebrows as he hugs back.

"Farewell, son. I will see you later," she says.

"Why are you leaving? Why don't you just stay here?" he demands. "There is enough room in this castle for you.  There are doctors here that can nurse you back to health."

"Mark, I am not royalty. I will go back to the cottage, where I belong, and spend the rest of my life in peace and quiet.  I am old and sick.  When my time comes, it will come."

Mark grows silent, his throat closing up as his mother kisses his cheek and shakes King Seán's hand.  With a quick wave, she follows the guards out and allows the door to close softly behind her.