RE: Monarch-Chapter 255: Fracture LX

We stood in a half circle on one side of the table, while my parents sat at the end, continuing to pointedly ignore each other.

Annette watched, transfixed, as the black shields strained against the weight of the late intruder, their polished armor reflecting the flickering candlelight. "He looks peaceful, somehow. Almost like he's ascending," she murmured, her voice soft against the grim tableau.

"Don't gawk, sweetling." My mother warned, hand shielding her face, blocking the elf from her vision.

Sera snorted. "Really? From where I'm standing he looks the opposite of peaceful."

I had to agree. I crossed my arms and looked over to Father. "How'd he end up there?"

"He ascended." Came the surly reply.

"Come on," I amped up the charm, trying to lighten the mood. "We're all curious."

My sisters nodded in unison, momentarily united by shared curiosity.

"There's no story worthy of song. Not even enough for a chorus." The King rumbled. When we all just waited for more, he rolled his eyes and continued. "Chuckle fuck thought he was the first magician in history to harness the wind for mobility. Used some advanced technique or multi-element spell weave or whatever the hells to make himself faster. Lighter too. A blade that finds a vein doesn't need significant weight behind it, and being able to run on walls makes it far easier for that blade to find purchases."

"Sounds difficult."

"Not particularly. He wasn't clever. Charged straight in." The King half-shrugged, a hint of a smile ghosting across his weathered face. "I've killed with a fist to the head before, but with all the spells making him lighter? The punch didn't kill him. He flew and landed as Elphion intended. Hells curse him."

"Perhaps it would be wise to take what is left and relocate?" Maya tried, her tail swishing with discomfort. "There is no small number of places to dine throughout the castle, and we'd all likely be more comfortable without—"

One of the black shields jostled the impaled figure, and a gout of dark fluid poured out from the man's pant leg, suddenly freed from the movement. Once the torrent was over it continued to drip, the sound a morbid rhythm against the floor as a foul stink pervaded through the air.

"Without that." Maya finished, nostrils flaring slightly.

From his displeased expression, the King clearly disagreed, looking between the two of us with eyes like flint. "Do you know why this is so important?"

I shook my head.

"From the beginning of my reign I have understood the difference between celebration and gratitude." He let the words sink in as he looked between us, each syllable measured and weighted with purpose. "When a new or untested officer manages their forces exceedingly well in a time of conflict, I ensure they are celebrated. Award titles, and deeds of land. But before all of that, I invite them here. Because the general who is celebrated without appreciation creates pride without loyalty." He met my eye, a twinkle of amusement in his expression. "And while I have no reason at all to question your loyalty, I now have many reasons to offer my thanks. So it is important that we stay. We will be patient. Once the servants perform their duty, we will dine as the gods intended."

/////

The servants were summoned. We departed.

When we returned, I marveled at their efficiency. Despite the brevity of their efforts, not a trace remained of the violent end that had played out mere moments before. The long table was immaculate, its dark finish still sheening with moisture, the solution the servants had used to clean its surface leaving a pleasant fresh scent that almost completely masked the iron tang of blood beneath.

Above us, the massive chandelier—now cleansed of blood and purged of remains—swayed almost imperceptibly, as if still disturbed by the violence it had witnessed. The ornate fixture hung at an unnatural angle, tilting upward and left like a wounded creature favoring its injured side. A silent harbinger of the unbalanced evening to come.

Other than that, and the sickened look that haunted my mother's expression well into the third course, it was as if the entire thing hadn't happened.

I was in the middle of retelling the events of the sewer, when I realized there was someone missing from our family dinner. Someone important who had nonetheless escaped notice. I looked around illogically, as if he'd simply slipped beneath my awareness, still finding him absent. "Where's… Uncle Luther?"

Mother sighed loudly and turned away. She'd spent most of the evening sighing, or staring off into the distance, appearing unhappy in some way. This time, however, the King's reaction mirrored hers. "Finish the retelling, son." He commanded tersely.

"We have the rest of the evening for that. And if he arrives late, he'll want to hear it, which will put the rest of you in the unenviable position of hearing the same drab story twice." ŖÅΝ𝐎βĚṠ

"Oh, we're all quite accustomed to such indecencies." The Queen took a long pull of her wine and refused to look at the King, who was staring at her from the side. Her attention went to Maya, instead, and she raised her glass approvingly. "It suits you."

"Thank you, milady." Maya ran her fingers across the hem of the dress, caught off guard by the sudden address. "Receiving such a gift was an utter surprise. From what I understand, it's quite rare."

"So they say." The Queen agreed, swirling the burgundy liquid in her glass contemplatively. "When I was young, I found such displays of excess distasteful. Even loathsome. It was not until a few years after I was married that I came to recognize luxury as a balm. Small pleasures that go a long way in offsetting the disquiet that comes along with realizing one has hitched their wagon to a horse that does not entirely share their direction, and there is nothing left to do about it."

Annoyance coursed through me. It was too much to expect my mother to simply be over our earlier conflict, but I'd hoped she'd at least find it within herself to be polite.

Maya's lips thinned as she attempted to smile. "Your concern and counsel is appreciated. Truly. I am lucky, as Cairn and I share the same vision."

"Enjoy that while it lasts," she offered, her words delicately wrapped in silk yet edged with steel.

"What—" I started, increasingly certain that whatever impression the elder princess had gotten was entirely off base, when glass shattered at the end of the table.

"Oh my," Queen Elaria lifted her arm, staring at the stem of a glass that was now devoid of flute, its end now decorated in shards. Her vacant stare looked unfocused, inebriated, even.

"Elphion, mother." I rose quickly, intending to take it off her hands. "It's barely past seven. Apparently I get my love of drink from you."

She snorted as she pulled the broken wine-stem away from me. "And little else. It's not every day I witness the tragic end of a living being."

"An elf. Who was trying to kill us. Tragic indeed." The King rumbled, his voice a low growl of thunder before the storm.

I tried again. "Give it here before you hurt yourself."

Something stubborn surfaced in my mother's expression, a hardening around her eyes that I recognized from childhood confrontations. "I existed before they brought you to me, naked and screaming. And even without your aid, I'll continue to exist." My mother tipped the remnants of the glass towards me, then pulled it away at the last moment and, in a puerile gesture, let the remnant fall to the ground, where it shattered with a crystalline finality.

Hurt, growing more irritated by the moment, and entirely unsure of what to do, I turned my back on her and returned to my seat. By the time I sat down there was a fresh glass of burgundy in her hands, poured nearly to the rim. "Right." She raised the glass higher and looked around. "To my children. I've tried so hard to teach you to think for yourselves, to find your own way in the world despite your responsibilities. And provide the best measure upon which to make your own judgements. I do this, of course, because the way is fraught with peril."

Even without aid my ass. You would have died if I hadn't intervened.

Annoyed as I was, I could never say it. So I crossed my arms and went the other direction. "What sort of peril, mother?"

"Perhaps the Queen is not feeling well and should return to her chambers." Annette tried. No one listened.

"So speaks the daughter who cannot be bothered to answer my summons after her disappearance." Queen Elaria's gaze rested on Annette briefly. Unprepared for the sudden spotlight, Annette's mouth tightened, and she gazed down at her lap.

"Apologies, Mother, I'd—"

"—Just been through a traumatic experience and needed time alone to recover." I finished for her. Annette had never mentioned any sort of conflict, though she was the sort to keep such things private.

"Cairn." Sera hissed, a warning in her voice.

I ignored her and continued. "No, please. Let's return to the topic of your toast. What peril? You've barely participated in any planning regarding the arch-mage, so it's unlikely you're referring to her."

"Planning?" Queen Elaria snorted, fixed me with an incredulous look, then snorted again. “Does employing dominant weapons with dark histories to obliterate a sea-bound target require such intense drafting that the Queen herself must take part?”

"Maybe. I'd be delighted to hear of any alternatives, unless all you have to offer is criticism."

"Don't—" The King tried, then rested the meat of his palm against his forehead as the Queen's attention snapped to him.

"So glad you asked." The Queen said, still staring pinions through the side of the King's head. "As I've commented in private to no end, there is still time for an armistice."

I groaned reflexively, and the King's massive chair creaked as he leaned forward, mouth tight in fury. "There will be no negotiations or discussion of terms."

"Her fleet will be forced to traverse the Tiverwind Strait to return north. With some well-placed gold it'd be easy enough to force a meeting."

"And deny us the opportunity to stage an ambush at the same ideal location." Gil held out a palm out towards me. "This feral bitch has repeatedly struck out at a member of the royal family with the intention to maim and kill one of your children. Does that mean nothing to you?"

"The safety of my children is tantamount." She stared back at him, unflinching. "They are all I have left that matters. So it is important to me that whatever we do next, secures their future."

As the King's visage was looking increasingly like an overripe tomato ready to burst, I stepped in, trying to de-escalate. "I… understand where you're coming from mother. Truly, I do. I remember the tales, the histories. How countless bloody, horrific conflicts could be easily resolved if both sides simply set the immediate qualms aside and met to clarify intent and sue for peace."

"Then you agree?" The queen asked, hope flickering in her eyes like the last ember in a dying fire.

Slowly, I shook my head, even as it hurt. A part of me—the child who once sat wide-eyed at her feet, absorbing parables of mercy and wisdom—still yearned to believe in her version of the future. That idyllic canvas painted in bright, hopeful strokes had been the tapestry of my dreams for so long that tearing it down felt like excising a piece of my soul. Yet here I stood, hands bloodied by necessity, watching as reality's harsh winds shredded those childhood illusions one by one.

"Thoth is… different." I swallowed, finding courage as Maya's hand slipped into mine beneath the table. "There's no place for her in your world, where people work towards the common good and kindness is easy to come by. If she found such a place, along with mocking its very existence, she'd do whatever she could to burn it all down. And just as there's no place for her in your world, there certainly isn't room for her in mine."

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

"How many leaders do you think have uttered similar words to those you speak at this very moment?" Her eyes were frigid pools, reflecting nothing. "How many generals do you imagine have assigned their enemies the description of evil, maligning them as the frothing unwashed masses because it made the violence in their hearts simpler to act upon?"

"Did father not share the account of my experience with you?"

"I did," he answered.

"Then you know I'm not drawing from a hypothetical." I gritted my teeth, tamping down on the sudden surge of anger that welled up as I remembered every cruel transgression. "The first time I spoke to Thoth, in my visions, I was fully prepared to barter."

There was warmth on my cheek as Maya leaned in to whisper in my ear. "It's alright. Tell her. Hearing it straight from the source could help."

"She…" my voice caught in my throat, a dam against memories that threatened to flood through. "They'd just killed Father. I still held a weapon, but there were too many of them. They had me cold. Thoth… approached me. Spat her mockery. I would have…"

Lost my mind in terror.

"… fought, or tried to." I amended, hiding the shame. "But they had Annette. So I had to try, for her sake." Across the table, I felt my little sister's eyes as she quietly observed. "And gods, did I try. It didn't matter what was offered. Breadth or scope. Appealing to her rational sensibilities, and later, her ego, did nothing." Hatred seeped into my voice like poison. "And when I begged… she laughed. Tormented me as a cat would a mouse. Allowed me to believe she was going to spare Annette, and then…"

A profound silence settled over the table, heavy as a burial shroud.

The King spoke, his voice gravelly and low. "When you've spoken of this before—even described the flow of events. You've given no detail to the most important matter. How was it?"

I laughed. It was so unlike him to make a joke to lighten the mood that for a second, it threw me off completely. "The fight?"

"Obviously."

"Spectacular, of course." I thought back to it, feeling an echo of the same awe I'd experienced that night. "Both of you were incredible to behold. You pressed her so intensely with blows strong enough to cleave shoulder to shoulder. Yet… she just… never broke. It was like you'd fought the same fight countless times, and if things were fair, it could have been anyone's bout. But she always knew exactly what you were about to do before you so much as moved. And given that, the advantage went to her."

"Foresight." The King rumbled, lost in thought. "Difficult to counter. But not impossible."

"Yes." I directed my attention back to Mother. "And that's hardly the only time. I spoke to her on the road to Whitefall and endured several encounters in the Sanctum. The arch-mage cannot be reasoned with."

"And what happened in the Sanctum?"

"She threw the entire sanctum into jeopardy and painted a target on my back—"

"The second time." The Queen clarified, in a voice that implied she was searching for something specific.

I shifted uncomfortably, knowing exactly what she was driving at with no method to avoid it. "It was perhaps the only time I ever caught her unprepared. We found her… seemingly repairing a prime ley line at the heart of the sanctum. Given the degree of corruption we saw, at that point it seemed wise to allow her to continue that work and postpone our conflict. Which she actually agreed to."

"And then?"

"Does it matter?" I sat back, staring at her defiantly. "Whatever peace that agreement sowed was temporary. Fragile. Someone was going to break it eventually and send us plunging back to where we started. Thoth herself admitted that she'd intended to go back on it as soon as she finished with the ley line."

"But she didn't need to, did she?" Elaria pressed, refusing to let it go, her words striking with the precision of an assassin's blade.

"Of course, because fuck context, fuck nuance, all that matters right now is that you unspool enough rope to hang me with." I snapped back. "Because the heroes in your stories are perfect. They're never gut shot, bleeding out, doing whatever they can to survive while the demons whisper about the best methods to torment them. They make their haughty decisions from high-towers and proselytize over the implications of potential outcomes. People don't die if they take too long to decide on a course of action, or hells, die regardless, on account of the smallest, most insignificant action that somehow tips the balance and snuffs out a life."

The Queen blinked back tears, the moisture catching the light like diamonds. For a moment I thought I'd gone too far. When she spoke her voice was low, throaty. "It's not about being perfect. It's about being better."

"In this very life, the evil you're comparing me to tied an innocent girl—a person I loved—to a chair, and subjected that person to horrors until they died. By comparison her death will be quick. Arguably painless." My jaw quivered. "I'd say I'm a great deal better."

"There was no malice in what Cairn did." Maya interrupted, flushing from the number of eyes suddenly on her. "We were coordinating with allies at that point. Communication in the Sanctum is difficult even on the surface. Only the most rudimentary methods work, and those that do seldom function deeper in, so they were mostly moving independently, working towards the same goal. The ceasefire was called in earnest but entirely unexpected. We had no immediate method of contacting our allies who rushed in and attempted to capture Thoth, simultaneously violating the parameters and underestimating the seriousness of the threat."

"I want to hear him say it." The Queen insisted, her gaze like a vise that would not release.

"Elaria, for the love of the gods. This is meant to be a celebration." Gil cut in, his massive hands clenched into fists.

"No, it's fine." I held up a hand and feigned a smile that felt like broken glass. "You're right. Ignoring nuance, ignoring context, because they apparently don't exist within the castle walls. Given the choice between making a foolish decision that would have led to not only my death, but the deaths of my allies and countless infernals, I moved to neutralize the threat before she could escape. It didn't work, but nevertheless I. broke. my. oath. I'm. like. him. That's what you want to hear, isn't it?"

"It's…" She swallowed. At the last moment she pivoted, seemingly backing off, growing pale. "The greater point is that you've never negotiated with the arch-fiend from neutral ground. Even in your vision. It's always been contested, sometimes even hostile. And it's impossible to have a productive negotiation with either party under direct threat."

"Perhaps." I said, ceding the minor victory. Because it would never happen. Even if some heavy thing dropped from the heavens and killed me right then and there, and the Black Beast saw fit to take me back to the moment we found Thoth, drenched in corrosive fluid and drained of mana, the only reason I'd shown mercy to begin with was because, at that time, I’d had no idea what she'd done. There'd be no betrayal this time. Because there'd be no negotiation to begin with.

I'd do everything I could to slit her throat and be done with it.

"Whatever we decide to do," I addressed the King, "I'd like to move sooner rather than later. Helm a survey ship out to the strait preceding the main fleet to make sure the locals understand how important this is, and how lucratively they'll be compensated."

"That can be arranged as early as tomorrow. Take the infernal, she'll be an asset there." Gil agreed immediately, then considered Maya, almost an afterthought. "If the infernal is so inclined."

"She… is." Maya relented, unhappily.

"As much as I'd love to board a ship at first light, we have plans." I corrected, hiding a smile. "Maya and I will be heading back to our old stomping grounds for a few days, shoring up alliances with some local nobility. If you still intend to abdicate early, I'll need all the support I can muster."

"The gods know that's true. Where are you headed?"

"Kholis."

The King nodded, as his eyes flickered in recognition. "And you will return more quickly than last time?"

I stifled a laugh. "Yes, father."

"Then enjoy the lapse. I'll ensure preparations are made in your absence."

Beside him, my mother drained another glass of wine. "Look at you both. Two peas in a pod, utterly meant for each other."

"Say what you will, but he's never drawn me as a weapon with which to slay you." I shot back.

"What does he mean?" The King glowered at his wife.

"Metaphorically, dear." Elaria looked away and entertained herself with the smooth texture of the nearby wall.

"How long will the two of you be spending in Kholis?" Sera asked, tormenting her leg of duck with a serrated knife.

"A few days."

"Hold on." Annette’s eyes narrowed. "Father, will Sera be joining Cairn on the ship?"

He glanced at me, and when I nodded confirmation, conveyed the message. "She's a banner lieutenant. That's obvious."

"Recently I was assigned a hold. A hold with the potential to be prosperous that requires much of my personal attention." Stoic anger radiated from her stubborn expression. "If they are both out of hand, then I am the token noble, and ergo, unable to leave Whitefall for the entire duration of their absence to evaluate my hold."

"Some things never change." Sera rolled her eyes. "Wait your turn, halfling."

"My turn." Annette repeated in disbelief. "What about today, when you participated in the battle I helped coordinate but was banned from observing?"

"What do you think it was? A casual lark through the sewers?" Sera asked.

"Trust me, it was a good one to miss." Maya said, still uneasy with the experience.

"Even so, the hold is my responsibility. Father explicitly said as much. The last time our brother left the city he was gone for years, and I can't risk the possibility of waiting even a fraction of that time." Annette insisted, staring between me, father, and mother. "If there must always be an heir in Whitefall, we are going to keep running into the same issue over and over."

Fed up, King Gil pounded the table with his fist. "Was I misinformed?" He roared, not just at Annette but seemingly the entire table, swiveling as he yelled to look at us all. "Instead of a feast, was this meant to be an itemized airing of grievances? Shall I send for an abacus so we may properly tally for every sleight, sin, and disappointment?"

The rest of us winced, bracing for the remainder of the tirade.

Everyone but the Queen. In a moment that I can only imagine must have been fueled by drink, she laughed at him. Not a snicker. Not a quickly strangled giggle. Laughed. In his face. "Will one abacus be sufficient?"

"I WILL SEND FOR TWO!" he thundered, each word a hammer strike against the tense silence.

As soon as Gil gripped the table with both hands, I weaved an aegis of air and slid it beneath Maya's chair, pulling her back as the long table fully flipped over on itself. It struck the considerable chandelier and left it even more crooked, crashing against the far wall. There was a stunned pause as the door cracked, cautious faces of servants peeking in, observing the destruction and listening, pausing long enough to ensure the disaster that created the damage had passed. When there was no further shouting, they entered matter-of-factly, several working in tandem to dislodge the flipped table from where it rested on the wall. Other than a litany of wide-eyed looks, everyone present knew better than to comment.

The heavy oak doors swung wide as servants entered bearing silver platters. A symphony of aromas washed over us—buttery pastry, herbs crushed to release their essential oils, and the rich, primal scent of slow-roasted pork, its skin crackling and glistening with fat. The centerpiece, a rotisseried pig with an apple between its jaws, seemed to survey the royal family with glassy, judging eyes.

The door swung open, revealing Uncle Luther. He looked a little road weary from the patrol, but fine, probably curious about why he'd been banished and summoned once more. "Evening my lord, my lady." He bowed to my parents and came up surveying the room, narrow eyes resting on the variety of food and detritus that littered the King's typically tidy quarters. "Gods, what happened here?"

"Sit." The King commanded.

Luther's brow furrowed. "But you said—"

"I know what I said. Now sit the fuck down."

I'm still half convinced it was the 'fuck' that did it. Then again, almost anything would have. Between the Drephin and the table, the ceiling fixture simply took too much of a beating. It was suspended by a chain, and as the aphorism goes a chain is only as strong as its weakest link.

A brittle crack rang out overhead. In that suspended moment between sound and consequence, every eye lifted upward. The chandelier—priceless, ornate, and incredibly heavy—tore free from its moorings and plummeted toward us. I summoned an aegis over the table's bare surface just in time to witness the collision: crystal and metal against flesh and bone. The pig didn't stand a chance. It simply ceased to exist as a recognizable entity, transformed into a volcanic eruption of broiling meat and viscera that spattered across fine silks and royal garments with democratic indifference.

"Look what you've done." The King snarled at Luther.

"You're… really trying to blame this on me?" Luther's mouth tightened as he made a circular gesture, desperately failing to suppress a smile. "I just got here."

His mirth only made the King angrier. "And you find this amusing?"

"No brother, not at all." Luther's nose and mouth twitched as if hexed.

"Really?" The Queen paused dramatically, then cracked a smile. "Because I find it hilarious."

It was clear the night was over. Annette and Sera started to argue again, eventually sneaking away from the table to carry on in the hallway. My parents maintained a more indirect argument, snarling at each other with Luther as proxy, while my uncle did his absolute best, and failed, to calm everyone down.

I reached across the space between us, fingers gentling as they found a morsel of meat tangled in Maya's hair. Something in the absurdity of it all—this royal family dinner turned battlefield—broke through my frustration, and I found myself chuckling. Maya's eyes met mine, a small island of sanity in chaos, her smile slightly dazed but unwavering. "Are they always like this?" she asked, her voice low enough that only I could hear, intimate despite the surrounding pandemonium.

"The family dinners?" I shrugged. "Can't say. This is the first one in recent memory."

"It will be difficult to forget."

It would. My mother's disapproval lodged like a splinter beneath my skin—small yet impossible to ignore, festering with each passing moment. She'd been my compass once, the voice that guided my understanding of right and wrong. Now, standing on opposite shores, I found myself adrift in ways I'd never expected. Despite being the person who taught me the art of compromise, finding a solution that appealed to both parties, she seemed completely incapable of carrying it out herself. Things had grown heated, but I hoped we'd find that middle-ground with time, once Thoth no longer threatened the kingdom.

I watched Maya tacitly observe the chaos, slowly turning to take it all in. She was the tranquility in the storm. The missing piece that tied it all together.

She started as I took her hand, interlocking our fingers. "Perhaps we should rouse Lucius. Begin our journey a few hours early."

"Eager." Maya looked me up and down, her tail bouncing in atypical patterns as she made a show of giving the proposition some thought. "Is it wise to begin our journey in the middle of the night, when we'll be traveling through the Everwood?"

"It's better lit than it used to be. Noticed more lamp posts and guards along the route when we returned. If we stick to the main roads and move at a steady clip, we'll be clear of monsters."

"And bandits?" She quirked an eyebrow.

"I'll do my very best to warn them you are coming."

Maya thought about it. But she didn't have to think for long. "Going to have to bow out. Not because I don't want to, but because I know you haven't properly packed." She looked up, her warm smile soft and hypnotic. "Let's plan for first light, instead."

"First light." I agreed.