Duty-Bound [ Lore of Penrua: Book II ]

11

There were still some servants in the palace, and none of them knew what to do with themselves. Matei saw them here and there, lingering around corners. He did not know what to do with them, either, and so in those first couple days, he left them to their own devices—but not before he noticed that not one of the palace servants in red and white uniform wore a marke.

He wondered what had happened to the servants from before. When he'd been a child, most had been Arcborn. The Corpsemaker had initiated a lunatic purge of the Holy City, intent on ridding it of Arcborn souls. Had he begun his bloody work under the roof where he lay his head?

Matei hoped to unravel the events of the past many weeks, but it would all take time, and he had no energy to spend on servants when the world still smoldered around them.

He walked, uncertain where he was going until he was at the front door of the palace. He felt restless and exhausted at the same time, and the last thing he wanted was to sit alone with his thoughts; he had to move. He stepped out into the fading evening.

The area was heavily patrolled; while they had not yet regained full control of the city, the palace was well-guarded. He could see the shadowy shapes of rebel soldiers in the far corners of the Sovereign Square, and there were four of them flanking the door. As he passed by, he recognized only one face. Rebels were rebels; they wore what they had to hand, not fancy tabards and armor, so was no way to tell from their clothes whether they formed part of the Hanpean forest forces, the southern allies, the Eastern Rebellion, or those who had controlled the Underground in the Holy City.

Matei had not known those folk as well as he'd known his own people in Hanpe, but they were allies. As he passed by the soldiers guarding the door, he exchanged smiles with them as he made his way down the steps of the palace—smiles of respect and of triumph.

There, in the center of the Sovereign Square, stood the statues of the Blessed Sovereigns on their low marble plinth: Katyander, the Chosen One, and her consort Broycan, the Archmage. Together, they held a staff tipped with a glowing lavender stone, which bathed their small part of the courtyard in a soothing glow. Matei sank down to sit on the plinth at their feet, resting his elbows on his knees and hanging his head down.

How had the path of his life led him to this moment? How could he be facing a choice larger than any he had been forced to make before? When he had been a child, he had wanted to grow up to rule the empire of Penrua. Had the secret of his paternity never been revealed, Korvan would have chosen him as his successor and left him the throne.

But Koreti's world was gone. Matei had buried the boy he had been and become a new man. Kaori was asking him to turn back time, take up the reins he had resolved to forget. How could he do it?

He missed Hanpe. The village nestled in the heart of the Duskwood was much smaller than the Holy City of Karelin, and much simpler. There, the days were scheduled around necessary work: study, tend the crops, practice at arms, cook, eat. See to the livestock. Fletch arrows. Sharpen blades. There had been a war going on, but it was not too difficult to forget it for a few moments now and then in the quiet center of the Duskwood.

Hanpe had become his home. Here—

"Matei?"

At first, Matei did not look up. It was Mhera, and at the sound of her voice, his heart was gripped with dread. He did not hear her footsteps as she moved across the courtyard, but he saw her feet edge into his line of sight a moment later. She had put her plain slippers back on and had donned a simple woolen gown unlike anything she would have worn as a child set on becoming a fine lady.

She had changed so much. They both had.

"Matei?" she said again. "Are you all right?"

He laughed, a sharp exhalation devoid of any mirth, and sat up straight. When he saw her face, his bitterness faded. She was clearly exhausted. Her irresponsibly long blonde hair was woven into a braid that fell nearly to her knees, but wisps had come free to frame her face. She had her arms folded around herself, as if she were cold. Or scared. "Mhera, what are you doing out here?"

"I was looking for you. I saw you from the window. And you? What are you doing?"

"I needed some time to think."

Mhera closed the distance between them and sat down on the plinth next to him, her stretching her legs out before her. "I remember many afternoons spent just like this."

Matei smiled. "Not quite like this. We were smaller, and so were our troubles."

"That's true. But our problems today are smaller than they were yesterday."

Was that true? Whatever they now faced, it was not quite as frightening as their own executions...was it? "Your perspective is good for me, I know, Mhera, but it is very inconvenient. I'm trying to feel sorry for myself."

Her laugh was soft, but it sounded genuine. "My apologies, Your Grace."

"Sweet Mother." His humor bled away. "Don't start that."

"You haven't a choice, Matei. And neither have I."

Struck through the heart with a pang of relief so sharp it was nearly painful, Matei looked at her. "Say it. Say what you mean."

"I will do as you asked of me. I will wear the crown with you, if Kaori agrees."

Matei slid off the plinth, turned toward Mhera, and dropped to his knees. He reached for her hands and kissed them. "It was wrong of me to ask you. I should not have put this on your shoulders."

"And Kaori should not have put it on yours. But neither should it fall to him; he did not lead this rebellion. None of us want this burden. And I think that means we are the right ones to carry it. No one in her right mind would be eager for this task."

"But you're saying you will do it?"

"Even were I to refuse, I would have to stay at your side. I might as well make myself useful as your partner. But I will not be a shadow."

Her words were an unwelcome reminder of everything that he had put her through since the night they had been reunited as strangers in the dungeons of the palace. He had been cruel to her. Very cruel. "Mhera..."

She held up her hand, cutting off words he did not have ready anyway. "We will be equals in all ways. Do you promise me?"

He kissed her hands again. "I promise you. We will share this work between us."

She smiled at him and rose, tugging on his hands to guide him to his feet as well. "It is our duty. Our purpose. This path was lain out before us by the goddess herself—Eovin believes that, and I think so do I. And now we will walk the path together. Besides, Matei—this is what you wanted. Revolution. You are still at the helm of it. There is no better place from which to guide the shaping of a new nation."

"From the ground," Matei sighed. "That would be better—better than watching from a throne."

Mhera raised her brows. "Hm. I do not intend to watch from the throne...do you?" She turned from him and chose a path back to the palace, her face tilted up to the stars.

All right! I'm sure most of you saw this coming; it's not like Matei and Mhera have a wealth of options here. 

But it's all good! The rebellion succeeded and now the world's going to be perfect; Matei and Mhera will have the full support of everyone, and nothing will ever go wrong again. Right?

...Right? Where's all that dramatic music coming from...?

Your next update will come Friday!