RE: Monarch
Author: Eligos
Chapter 274: Kholis XIX
"It gives me great pleasure to see you walk among us, this time free of bandages and guise." Lady Timbermour took Maya's hands, squeezing them gently in greeting. Her eyes crinkled at the edges, then turned sharp as she regarded me. "And here he is. The prince who died."
"Survived. To the regrets of the rumors." I shrugged it off.
"Perhaps." She studied me with the calculating gaze of someone accustomed to weighing truth against fiction. "Kholis hears much from its quiet place in the world. And those we host come from many places, including the Enclave. The reports of your duel were consistent from multiple sources—as were details of the grievous wounds you received. It did not seem like the sort of crucible one lives through."
"It was a close thing. Had she not believed me dead, it would not have worked."
"My husband grieved for you." Her voice turned hard, the words cutting like winter wind. "He'll never admit to such a thing. Which leaves me to do it now, before he has any say in the matter."
I shifted. Coming into this I hadn't been sure what to expect from Lady Timbermour. In my mind she was still Millie the Barmaid, idling beside a table of noteworthy guests, unbuttoning her blouse with aims of seducing a young lord. The worst I'd imagined was that she'd walk the unfortunate path of many common folk that received a title, letting it go to their head as much of the nobility did, quick to forget their roots and trod on the heads of others.
This was not that. If anything, she seemed sharper than she had in those early days, and loyal enough to Lucius to take up grievances for him.
"Plans often lose shape on the battlefield. Especially plans born of haste. At the time, I did what I believed to be necessary. The outcome of my actions created a great deal of distress." I bowed. "My apologies."
There was an odd bit of etiquette taking place, a mix of old and new. As noble hosts, it was Lucius and Millicent's role to ensure the stay was safe and free of hardship. Part of that tradition—a rather archaic part—meant any potential grievances between the two parties needed to be addressed and resolved at the onset of the affair. And if the edges could not be sanded, the only alternative was to find a magistrate to oversee a duel. The last part was rarely followed these days, as any person seeking a magistrate to oversee something that had been explicitly outlawed over a decade ago obviously lacked in sanity. In most cases, the grievances were simply not mentioned. And if they were aired with no resolution in sight, the parties would simply separate and follow the more common practice of angrily gossiping to their neighbors.
After a moment, Lady Timbermour bit her cheek and looked away. "That being said. I'm aware I owe you a great deal for my current position."
"I did nothing other than offer a fortuitous introduction."
"It goes beyond that introduction. Whether you knew what you were doing or not, you gave Lucius a way forward after the death of his father. Both of you." She turned to include Maya in the statement. "I wasn't sure what to think of his obsessions, at first, but having something to focus on eased the pain of loss."
The words hit like cold water. Lucius's father—Desiric—
died the first time I was here. Along with myself and the ill-fortuned rangers that escorted me. The next time around I'd saved him—or at least, I thought that I had. When I left he'd been alive and placed under house arrest. Last I'd heard he'd been stripped of his title, but alive.
"Desiric passed?" I breathed, feeling my guts twist as Millicent nodded confirmation. I'd been working through the best way to ask for an audience with Desiric when Lucius had clearly been avoiding the topic. Now I understood why.
"He didn't tell you?"
"No."
"We had no idea." Maya added, her expression rife with concern.
"It's been a long time since he left us. Just stopped breathing in his sleep one night, and his servants found him the following morning. Not more than a year after the two of you went on your way."
This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
I swallowed. "I'm sorry for your loss."
"I'm not." Millicent stated flatly, though she did quickly glance down the hall. "He was a right bastard. One who completely neglected the role of a father to chase conspiracies and dreams of gold."
To my left, Maya's brow furrowed. "There were no symptoms?"
Lady Timbermour paused. "None. Spirited as a cantankerous fat bastard can be one day, pale and cold the next. But he was isolated. Prone to illness. The guard and healers found no evidence of anything untoward. It's entirely possible he decided to be stubborn and ignore what was happening to him and paid the price."
"I see." Maya said, looking unconvinced.
In truth, neither was I. During the first Kholis loop, Thoth killed Desiric for little more than speaking out of turn. Back then I'd thought it mere animus—that she'd simply killed him because he'd angered her at that particular moment. An underestimation born of ignorance.
Now, I was fully aware of how calculated she could be.
A quiet, symptomless death spoke to certain varieties of poison. The problem with that theory was that Thoth was not prone to subtle methods. With her massive pool of accumulated time and knowledge, she was probably
than capable of it, but I'd never seen her fall back on a potion or poultice other than to heal a severe gut wound in the sanctum. It simply wasn't her style. If she wanted to kill someone she—
I shook my head, clearing the thought before it could travel the same worn roads.
"We've come with presents." I proffered the bag of wine towards Millicent who took it and handed it off to the servant. "Before we partake, perhaps we should pay our respects?" I glanced back at Maya.
Maya inclined her head, arms clasped behind her back. "Whatever his moral failings, he welcomed an infernal into his home when it was uncommon to do so. And of course, without him there would be no Lucius."
"Well. I'm inclined to argue. But it would please Lucius. Go on." She pointed us towards a rear double door that led out to a stone terrace. "The food should be ready by the time you've returned."
/////
"After everything we went through bending over backwards to save him, the bastard just
" Maya hissed, quietly furious.
"It happens." My voice echoed off the crypt wall as I shut the door behind us, the sound heavy and final in the enclosed space. The flame from my torch cast dancing shadows against weathered stone as I lit a nearby sconce. "We were gone for years. Nobles often die in disappointing ways. Most noble children grow up believing themselves invincible and are never corrected on that front."
Maya descended the stairs in front of me, her footsteps careful on the worn stone, squinting into the darkness of the vaulted chamber. Cold seeped into my bones as the subterranean air reached my nose—stale and thick, carrying the mingled scents of old incense, melted wax, and something deeper. The weight of centuries pressed down from the arched ceiling above.
Now at the bottom, I lit the sconces along the path, nearly half-a-dozen flames pushing back the darkness as we passed tomb after tomb in the long row, effigies of unfamiliar men and women sculpted into the stone lids, their carved faces serene in eternal sleep.
At Desiric's tomb, I carefully removed the unburned stick of incense and lit it with the torch, placing it back in the brass vessel. Sweet smoke curled upward as I bowed my head in intercession, Maya doing the same beside me.
The creak of the heavy metal door scraping against stone above ground caught my ears, followed by the deliberate echo of tired boots descending the stairway behind us.
For a moment, I saw Barion instead of Lucius, descending the long subterranean stairway, death clenched tightly in his hand. Of course, it wasn't Barion. But the sight of Lucius was far from comforting. He looked grim, unshaven. Haunted. He sounded old, far older than his years, and his hollow words echoed off the walls.
"I told myself that it didn't matter. And maybe it doesn't." His voice carried an odd, almost manic energy, as if something inhuman had taken hold of him. "He went out of his way to remind me how little I mattered, every chance he had. When I was kidnapped, he did
Because explaining where I was, who had taken me, and
I was there, couldn't be waved away with a tidy lie." He panned us slowly with the same crazed look, torch light flickering across his features. "He was a shit father and deserved worse than what he got. I shouldn't care. I don't care. It doesn't matter."
"
doesn't matter, Lucius?" Maya broke in, unable to stay silent any longer, seeming torn between running to him and staying at my side. "You seem… unwell."
"Not like it wasn't something I considered doing myself, countless times." His words came faster now, building momentum like a rockslide. "But I have to ask."
"Then ask." I watched his hands, waiting for any sudden movement or sign of a weapon. There was none.
His eyes flicked to me, stark and cold in the wavering light. "Did you kill my father?"
"Survived. To the regrets of the rumors." I shrugged it off.
"Perhaps." She studied me with the calculating gaze of someone accustomed to weighing truth against fiction. "Kholis hears much from its quiet place in the world. And those we host come from many places, including the Enclave. The reports of your duel were consistent from multiple sources—as were details of the grievous wounds you received. It did not seem like the sort of crucible one lives through."
"It was a close thing. Had she not believed me dead, it would not have worked."
"My husband grieved for you." Her voice turned hard, the words cutting like winter wind. "He'll never admit to such a thing. Which leaves me to do it now, before he has any say in the matter."
I shifted. Coming into this I hadn't been sure what to expect from Lady Timbermour. In my mind she was still Millie the Barmaid, idling beside a table of noteworthy guests, unbuttoning her blouse with aims of seducing a young lord. The worst I'd imagined was that she'd walk the unfortunate path of many common folk that received a title, letting it go to their head as much of the nobility did, quick to forget their roots and trod on the heads of others.
This was not that. If anything, she seemed sharper than she had in those early days, and loyal enough to Lucius to take up grievances for him.
"Plans often lose shape on the battlefield. Especially plans born of haste. At the time, I did what I believed to be necessary. The outcome of my actions created a great deal of distress." I bowed. "My apologies."
There was an odd bit of etiquette taking place, a mix of old and new. As noble hosts, it was Lucius and Millicent's role to ensure the stay was safe and free of hardship. Part of that tradition—a rather archaic part—meant any potential grievances between the two parties needed to be addressed and resolved at the onset of the affair. And if the edges could not be sanded, the only alternative was to find a magistrate to oversee a duel. The last part was rarely followed these days, as any person seeking a magistrate to oversee something that had been explicitly outlawed over a decade ago obviously lacked in sanity. In most cases, the grievances were simply not mentioned. And if they were aired with no resolution in sight, the parties would simply separate and follow the more common practice of angrily gossiping to their neighbors.
After a moment, Lady Timbermour bit her cheek and looked away. "That being said. I'm aware I owe you a great deal for my current position."
"I did nothing other than offer a fortuitous introduction."
"It goes beyond that introduction. Whether you knew what you were doing or not, you gave Lucius a way forward after the death of his father. Both of you." She turned to include Maya in the statement. "I wasn't sure what to think of his obsessions, at first, but having something to focus on eased the pain of loss."
The words hit like cold water. Lucius's father—Desiric—
died the first time I was here. Along with myself and the ill-fortuned rangers that escorted me. The next time around I'd saved him—or at least, I thought that I had. When I left he'd been alive and placed under house arrest. Last I'd heard he'd been stripped of his title, but alive.
"Desiric passed?" I breathed, feeling my guts twist as Millicent nodded confirmation. I'd been working through the best way to ask for an audience with Desiric when Lucius had clearly been avoiding the topic. Now I understood why.
"He didn't tell you?"
"No."
"We had no idea." Maya added, her expression rife with concern.
"It's been a long time since he left us. Just stopped breathing in his sleep one night, and his servants found him the following morning. Not more than a year after the two of you went on your way."
This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
I swallowed. "I'm sorry for your loss."
"I'm not." Millicent stated flatly, though she did quickly glance down the hall. "He was a right bastard. One who completely neglected the role of a father to chase conspiracies and dreams of gold."
To my left, Maya's brow furrowed. "There were no symptoms?"
Lady Timbermour paused. "None. Spirited as a cantankerous fat bastard can be one day, pale and cold the next. But he was isolated. Prone to illness. The guard and healers found no evidence of anything untoward. It's entirely possible he decided to be stubborn and ignore what was happening to him and paid the price."
"I see." Maya said, looking unconvinced.
In truth, neither was I. During the first Kholis loop, Thoth killed Desiric for little more than speaking out of turn. Back then I'd thought it mere animus—that she'd simply killed him because he'd angered her at that particular moment. An underestimation born of ignorance.
Now, I was fully aware of how calculated she could be.
A quiet, symptomless death spoke to certain varieties of poison. The problem with that theory was that Thoth was not prone to subtle methods. With her massive pool of accumulated time and knowledge, she was probably
than capable of it, but I'd never seen her fall back on a potion or poultice other than to heal a severe gut wound in the sanctum. It simply wasn't her style. If she wanted to kill someone she—
I shook my head, clearing the thought before it could travel the same worn roads.
"We've come with presents." I proffered the bag of wine towards Millicent who took it and handed it off to the servant. "Before we partake, perhaps we should pay our respects?" I glanced back at Maya.
Maya inclined her head, arms clasped behind her back. "Whatever his moral failings, he welcomed an infernal into his home when it was uncommon to do so. And of course, without him there would be no Lucius."
"Well. I'm inclined to argue. But it would please Lucius. Go on." She pointed us towards a rear double door that led out to a stone terrace. "The food should be ready by the time you've returned."
/////
"After everything we went through bending over backwards to save him, the bastard just
" Maya hissed, quietly furious.
"It happens." My voice echoed off the crypt wall as I shut the door behind us, the sound heavy and final in the enclosed space. The flame from my torch cast dancing shadows against weathered stone as I lit a nearby sconce. "We were gone for years. Nobles often die in disappointing ways. Most noble children grow up believing themselves invincible and are never corrected on that front."
Maya descended the stairs in front of me, her footsteps careful on the worn stone, squinting into the darkness of the vaulted chamber. Cold seeped into my bones as the subterranean air reached my nose—stale and thick, carrying the mingled scents of old incense, melted wax, and something deeper. The weight of centuries pressed down from the arched ceiling above.
Now at the bottom, I lit the sconces along the path, nearly half-a-dozen flames pushing back the darkness as we passed tomb after tomb in the long row, effigies of unfamiliar men and women sculpted into the stone lids, their carved faces serene in eternal sleep.
At Desiric's tomb, I carefully removed the unburned stick of incense and lit it with the torch, placing it back in the brass vessel. Sweet smoke curled upward as I bowed my head in intercession, Maya doing the same beside me.
The creak of the heavy metal door scraping against stone above ground caught my ears, followed by the deliberate echo of tired boots descending the stairway behind us.
For a moment, I saw Barion instead of Lucius, descending the long subterranean stairway, death clenched tightly in his hand. Of course, it wasn't Barion. But the sight of Lucius was far from comforting. He looked grim, unshaven. Haunted. He sounded old, far older than his years, and his hollow words echoed off the walls.
"I told myself that it didn't matter. And maybe it doesn't." His voice carried an odd, almost manic energy, as if something inhuman had taken hold of him. "He went out of his way to remind me how little I mattered, every chance he had. When I was kidnapped, he did
Because explaining where I was, who had taken me, and
I was there, couldn't be waved away with a tidy lie." He panned us slowly with the same crazed look, torch light flickering across his features. "He was a shit father and deserved worse than what he got. I shouldn't care. I don't care. It doesn't matter."
"
doesn't matter, Lucius?" Maya broke in, unable to stay silent any longer, seeming torn between running to him and staying at my side. "You seem… unwell."
"Not like it wasn't something I considered doing myself, countless times." His words came faster now, building momentum like a rockslide. "But I have to ask."
"Then ask." I watched his hands, waiting for any sudden movement or sign of a weapon. There was none.
His eyes flicked to me, stark and cold in the wavering light. "Did you kill my father?"