where pilgrims are sinners, saints go to hell

8

She had been in her room, sitting comfortably on her bed while writing down her plans for the garden, when he burst in.

She yelped in surprise.

"My King? Is something wrong?"

"You are to leave the White Palace with immediate effect", his voice cold and distant as it hadn't been since the first time they met.

"...what?!"

"This is no place for mortals", was the only explanation he offered. "We'll allow you to pack your belongings, as long as you do so right now".

"What's going on? Why are you kicking me out? Did I do something wrong?"

"Don't think so highly of yourself. You simply have no business here, and therefore no reason to stay".

"I've never had any, but you still let me. You... enjoyed my company. You started visiting-"

"We have no need for company" he interrupted. "And we would, in fact, appreciate not having to worry about another being roaming our floors".

She took that like a kick to the stomach. She was confused and worried and the suddenness of everything almost made her want to cry. She knew he had enjoyed having her around, right? He... had never said so out loud, but his actions spoke enough. And he wasn't the type to verbalize his every thought, either.

No, something was up. Why would he want her to leave now? What had changed? Maybe he regretted letting her color the garden? He could always go back on his word, it's not as if she--

...wait. Had he... interrupted her?

The same reclusive, soft spoken King who had insisted multiple times that that his higher rank no longer existed, who considered her an equal? Had the man who valued respect and communication so much he had literally remade himself to be able to participate in it, just talked over her?

Something was definitely wrong. She looked at him. His eyes betrayed nothing, but his posture was too stiff, with his arms crossed behind his back and his wings forcibly extended.

He knew that she knew his wings were the most expressive part of his anatomy. He was trying to make himself look angry. Why would he...?

"You're lying" she realized.

He stared at her for a moment.

"We have no need to justify our doings. This palace is of our property and we want you out of it immediately".

"Why are you lying to me? Did I do something wrong?"

"We would rather not have to banish you by force, but if you don't leave on your own account, we won't hesitate to" he seemed to be getting impatient.

She tried again. "You shouldn't feel the need to lie to me, my King. Whatever is on your mind will be met with no judgement from me".

He was silent for a couple of seconds, before lowering his head.

"The bravery with which you speak truly can only be born of ignorance" he said lowly. "Get out".

"What do you mean, your highness?"

"...we know not how old you are, or what you have seen. But this cursed kingdom has been home of many horrors, born of many natures. Many of which we played a hand in directly. Perhaps if you knew all there is to know about them you would leave the palace by your own feet".

...oh. So that was what this was about. She knew it would come up eventually, and yet...

"...I know already".

He huffed. "It is impossible for you to know".

"I know about the original plan to contain the infection. I know about the vessels, about the dreamers and the Gendered Child. I've been to the Abyss, and I've seen what lurks in there. I know already, and I came to the palace still".

His form froze completely. He didn't move, or speak, for long enough to make her worry. And then, when she was about to ask if he was alright, she heard the faintest,

"How?"

And how to explain it properly?

"...enough pieces were scattered around the kingdom for the story to be put together".

He still didn't move.

"...so the door to the Abyss is open?"

"...yes". If she didn't know any better, she would have thought he was... scared.

"So another one took the title of king. Oh, gods. Then why are you here? I don't understand, why didn't you run away from this forsaken grave the moment you saw it? Why?! It makes no sense!"

''Your majesty..." she attempted, voice small. The way he had dropped the royal 'we' pronoun didn't go unnoticed. He sounded as confused as desperate.

And he didn't relent.

"And even if you didn't leave, what sort of business do you have in the Basin that is important enough for you to ignore the absolute nightmare that lies underneath it? What sort of life-or-death quest could you be in in order to end up in the abandoned memory of this place, other than doing justice by putting an end to my miserably long life?"

He almost yelled the last part, and the unfamiliarity of it made her flinch. But she spoke only truth.

"I wish to help you".

He sat in disbelief for a couple of seconds, before letting out a dry laugh.

"Help me? Why? Take your valuable time and resources and use them on the poor souls that somehow outlived this tragedy and take them as far from these ruins as possible. The only way you could help me is by giving me a swift death so that my mistakes can haunt me no longer".

There was a solid minute of silence, before he dropped his head. "...but I don't deserve even that".

His dignified posture was dropped for the first time since she had arrived. He looked... defeated.

"Why should I, of all people, be allowed to rest, when so many others still live with the consequences of my actions? I failed everyone, and I wasn't even brave enough to drown with them in the mess I caused.

...I failed everyone" he repeated, his voice the smallest she'd ever heard, and with the last word, a single, perfect tear found its way down his mask.

When she saw this, she couldn't have stopped herself even if she had attempted to. She walked up to him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pressing their bodies together. After a second, she felt him wrap his around her waist and sob gently into her neck.