Unearth The Shadows

17

Heron Her Lomeon | 22rd day of Sprout season

The blackmen guarding the double doors asked no questions when Heron walked past the entrance of the courtroom.

Its interior was almost bathed in complete darkness, with a single row of three chandeliers burning behind his father. They cast a ruddy glare onto scripts scattered about Lomeon's desk.

Lomeon held the seal of The Monarchy in one hand and a pair of eyeglasses in another. Not acknowledging Heron's presence, he read through one script to another mindlessly, almost as if lost in them.

The scene brought long-forgotten memories to the surface. Of the occasions when Heron and his half-brother used to plan their night games through the palaces. He'd feign reading the sacred scriptures under insufficient light to stay awake- Mainor's idea. But Lomeon invariably took Servyna's side, and they sent both boys to bed.

"Isn't it too dark around, Father?"

Lomeon turned to Heron, putting the seal and the eyeglasses on the table. "Ron da, come and sit," he said. "Taking one last look at the marriage decree before the seal of the Monarchy. It's already been approved by the Regency of the Island."

He spoke as though Heron shared his enthusiasm about the marriage. In a moment of clarity, he said, "Matters little, right? This is certainly not why you are here." He exhaled heavily and rubbed his hands together. "Your Master reported the incidents in the city taverns to me. Grace to the Spirits the worse did not happen, son. Not after what happened to us two years ago."

Heron leaned forward and grabbed the edge of the desk where sat a pile of scripts, his teeth gritted up to the root of his gums. His father couldn't say her name.

Heron felt wanted to remind him of every syllable of it. Of every poor decision Lomeon had made since her passing. From courting a servant while his mother was suffering with poison in her veins, to letting the culprits roam free and unpunished for years. Heron urged to remind him it was his fault they had lost her.

"What difference would it make if the worst had happened?" Heron asked.

"I regret you do not realize," Lomeon said firmly. "I regret you had to witness what I did the day of Servyna's passing. And I regret, I waited so long to present you my most sincere apologies, son. Pardon me. For that and for not allowing you to know the real cause of her death. You shouldn't have learned about it like this. Ancients know I wish I had one, but I don't have a valuable excuse. I thought of sharing the truth with you. Several times. But you already hated me, and I was egotistical enough not to want to further deteriorate my image." He sighed. "This is where we are now. It used to be so much easier when Servyna was here..."

For the first time in his life, his father appeared old and weak. And for a brief moment, Heron contemplated his death and all the resentment towards him turned to shame.

"What use is all the regret for, now?" Heron asked, "We need to act. Dismantle the rebellion and find the killers. That's what we need."

"Take a seat if you want."

Heron shook his head.

Lomeon sighed. "You imagine the size of the task you are setting for?"

"I care little about it." Heron could see the pain on his father's face.

"You have a plan?"

"I suppose I will have to operate anonymously from the city."

"The rebellion mobilizes thousands of citizens. Ultimately, it doesn't matter who strikes the killing blow so long as the rebellion can claim it as a victory. Even if you can somehow infiltrate the rebellion, I'm afraid there's no guarantee you will ever get to your mother's killer. They are perhaps not even ali-"

"You don't have to say it." His father didn't have the right to strip away the only meaningful thing Heron had to hold on to. "You cannot think that I am incapable of doing anything of my own and still believe I will be a suitable Monarch. Choose the first and you'll have to find another heir, choose the second and I am willing to comply with my duties but only if I get to keep my free will. I'm tired of being puppeteered. It's over." Heron would find those who took Servyna away from him. Even if it was the last thing he did.

"No matter how loud you beg for your death, I will never concede you that right, son," Lomeon said. "You barely have an idea of the dangers outside of the royal domain."

"Venom, Father," Heron lashed out. He lost hold of his voice, his spews echoing in the grand room. "I had a cursed saber against my throat in a forsaken tavern I should have been safe in. What could be worse than that?"

"You have no idea, ron da."

His father remained calm, unfazed while Heron simmered in anger. He almost sounded unreasonable, too intense, compared with his father. Lomeon did it all this on purpose?

"And I suppose I can't make you understand that now," Lomeon said. "You are utterly out of control."

Ancients burn him. Slowly. Painfully. Ancients burn him forever.

"I can't blame you because it's partly my fault. Believe it or not, I still have some fatherly instincts in me. Right now, they're telling me to send you to prison to keep you from hurting yourself."

"Don't treat me like a child."

Lomeon blinked. "Well-" he trailed off, wearing a thoughtful look. "It's fair we meet halfway. I can propose a deal." He rubbed his hands together. "I will trust your judgment and let you do as you think is right. To be clear, I don't think you are. You'll have free passage through the gates of the ramparts. But first, you need to give me your word."

Ironically, even to earn his liberty, Heron was required to obey the rules of his superiors.

"What do I need to do?"

"Your word first," Lomeon stated. "It's useless to bargain. Either we have a deal or I'm doing things as I see fit. We'll both get hurt either way. I'm used to it. I'm sure you are too."

If throwing away empty words was the price for his freedom, he was willing to pay it. "You have my word, Father."

"Then from now on, I will take over your training for military enlistment."

That was it. It was laughable. Heron had expected worse. Much worse. "If you wish so."

"I'll inform the brigadier and your master of my decision. Go now, you need to rest. I'd also take care of that leg if I were you. I warn you I will be vicious in the training fields."