The King's Collie

Part II, Chapter 4: Homesick, And Sickened By Home

The King looked off of the edge of the mighty ship the following day, as it was still docked, after having boarded. It wasn't the largest in his navy, nor did it need to be: It held, in total, only twenty men. These would be himself, Afon, and ten Valentian soldiers, with the ship's crew being the remaining eight.

Ophelia was at the end of the dock, guards standing at the start of it. "Goodbye! Come home safe, darling!" she waved both her hand and her tail as she mewled loudly.

"Goodbye! I will see you again, I swear by it!" her love waved back, his mane shaking with the fresh sea breeze.

They could have crossed Aragonia and launched from there, but such a trek would be a struggle, and Argenti might not have been too fond of this venture. Thus, the plan now was to sail the shorter way, through the Strait of Gibraltar that Lusitania currently claimed on both sides; This would have been a dangerous gamble, had their ship not been unmarked.

As the ship was unanchored and paddled out, Felix stared at the dock, then the shipyard, then, eventually, the line of buildings along the shoreline. Then, this shoreline faded. Goodbye, Ophelia, and goodbye, Valentia. He would surely return.

"Your Highness, I don't at all intend to tell you what to do, but you've been doing nothing but standing here since we've left. Perhaps you'd like to come under the deck," one of the knights suggested. The King nodded agreeably, but silently. He had only been out here for a couple of hours, but he already missed the home he was leaving. He had always felt this subtle homesickness, and Valentia was always on his mind. That was a good thing, in his opinion, for everything he did was in the name of his people and country. He loved it so.

—

Ophelia sat in the throne room, and tried to get comfy. This was where she would spend most of her usual time, instead of the garden, for the duration of her husband's trip. The Kingdom was in her lap, now. It was a lot. She took a deep breath, and tried to think, when Iago clacked into the throne room. She had summoned him.

"What issues are at hand, Your Holiness?" she asked.

"My my, you're asking me?" Iago squawked.

"Indeed. I sure hope you can answer, too!" Ophelia chuckled. "Your Queen orders it!" she lightheartedly said. "Oh, this is hard getting used to."

To put it shortly, Iago didn't at all agree with what was going on right now, even with however much he imposed it. The cardinal thought that Felix would give commanding power to him. He felt he was worthier of it than a queen. Queens were kings's wives, in the avian's mind, and naught else. However, he realized he still had such power, in a less direct way. "You'd best listen to me," he cawed, putting a hand to his chest. "I do think I'd advise well."

"Good, good. Now, like I asked, what is in need of taking care of?" the Queen asked again, rubbing the armrest of the throne.

"Many things. For one thing, the farmers of the northwestern section of the Kingdom faced a harsh freeze last winter," the bird described. "They don't require as much assistance as they did the last time so harsh a season hit, but it would be appreciated."

"Put an Act into place that raises the price for the crops they have. They get so little for what they have, even on a normal year," Ophelia nodded.

"Alright. A fire in a nearby town broke has meanwhile broken out, and they too wish for assistance—" Iago started to describe, but was answered sooner than expected.

"Hm! Allocate whatever resources you deem fit, as well, and encourage the community to pitch in with the work," Ophelia mewled with this reasoning. She smiled as she so quickly knew what to do.

Iago just sighed, and wrote these orders down. The King couldn't come back soon enough, in his opinion. Situation after situation, order after easily-resolving order. Make no mistake, though, Ophelia assured that she gave a good consideration to each problem, and offered a logical solution, all within the time she chose to spare.

"That should do it," the Cardinal nodded.

Ophelia chuckled. "Can't say at all why I was so worried about that."

"A queen shouldn't at all have to worry too much about the trivial things," he flipped his notebook shut. "Oh, and— do you approve all of this week's scheduled executions?"

"Pardon?" the lioness quietly asked, the smile fading from her face. "Oh my. Executions?"

"His Highness usually just says yes and goes on with his day, so I wouldn't—" the Cardinal started.

"No, I think I'd like to know more than that," Ophelia resolved.

"Your Majesty, I really don't think this is much of your business," Iago smiled.

"Nonsense, I think I'd at least like to hear about them," the Queen huffed.

"My Queen, I simply th—" the bird squeaked out.

These words were no further elaborated, as Ophelia growled them out in frustration: "By God, do you usually have his approval to do that? How much does he know about this?" the Queen asked, her fur standing on end, asking the question she never thought to. She couldn't believe it.

"Yes," Iago lied.

"Reverse all that. Get rid of this obscene penalty for those whose crimes aren't ones against humanity," the lioness declared.

"What!? I don't know if you can do that without Felix's—" Iago tried to disclaim.

"My husband may reverse it when he comes home, if he so pleases, but I completely doubt that he would! Does he even know about any of this?" Ophelia said, trying to control her volume. The Queen still couldn't help feeling this newfound pang of guilt. She never knew that there were any such residents of the Kingdom being so mercilessly put to death! Oh, if only she knew before! She looked away from the Cardinal for a while, before being asked another ear-catching question.

"I'll approve them for now," Iago finished predictably, closing the book. "Thank you for your time, Your Majest—"

"Did you not hear me?!" the Queen widened her eyes, clutching her throne's armrest in anger. "If I didn't know any better, I see bloodthirst in you!"

The Cardinal stopped in his own talon's planned tracks, having already been walking away. "What! No, no. I really don't think that these are the kinds of things you would want to pardon, Your Majesty. These are some loathsome crimes—"

"Give me that damned book of yours, Iago, and maybe I'll see for myself! And that much is a royal order!" the Queen roared loudly, echoing through the hall, the tapestries hanging from them now shaded with orange by the sunset. "Anyone not charged with something with a present danger should not die at the hands of as merciless a system as yours!"

Without further hesitation, the intimidated avian handed the small notebook over, as well as the pen and ink that accompanied it. Opening it, Ophelia made harsh scrapes and strikes through the words written on the pages, and replaced them with her own. She pored over the listings of those who were deemed criminals... sure, the violent and wrathful ones, but also ones whose offenses she was surprised someone even bothered to punish, much less allot for an execution. "There. Bring that information wherever it is needed. I think I've made my decision clear enough."

"Yes... Ophelia," Iago squawked deeply, stepping out of the hall. He used her name, breaking the respect of a customary title, just as she did by using his. The Queen just leaned back, sighing, then groaned a little. Sickened she was, indeed, by the awful thought of her own Kingdom doing such things. She wasn't at all proud of what the Cardinal made clear was happening, and hoped to God that the information she revised would be relayed to the courts, in an quick but exact manner. Most of all, though, she wondered what Felix would have thought of all that.