A Royal Pain: An MM Fantasy by S.M. Quill

Author:S.M. Quill [Quill, S.M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-05-28T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

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“If you don’t mind, Your Majesty, I’d like to ask for a leave this afternoon,” said Councilor Urissil.

Eresthas rhythmically tapped his fingertips together, arms resting on the long table in the receiving room. “You took one a couple of days ago.”

“I worked without rest for so many years, sire. At my advanced age, you understand… There are temporary… circumstances, you see.”

Ruz kept his face impassive, but he wondered how Eresthas could understand what Urissil could barely explain. He glanced at Oderet for wisdom, but the royal guard twitched his shoulders in a discreet shrug.

“You’ll miss the discussion about Nefalia’s taxes under their current legal status,” the king said.

“I’m sure I won’t be needed, sire.”

“If you’re not needed when discussing Nefalia, were you ever needed?”

The old man’s eyes grew round. His knees started quaking like twigs on a windy day.

“Tomorrow morning the discussion will be about this year’s midsummer festival,” Eresthas said. “A lighter, non-strategic topic. Would that work for you?”

A wet smile, missing most of its teeth, pleated Urissil’s face. “That will be wonderful, sire. I’ll remember your kindness.” After a swaying bow, he shuffled out. Oderet escorted him, hovering close as if Urissil might crumple at any moment.

Ruz rolled his stiff shoulders. “I’d congratulate you on your successful attempt at kindness, but your ‘were you ever needed’ evens it out to neutral.”

A wry smile tugged at the corner of Eresthas’s lips. “I’m trying, all right?”

“A most laudable effort, sire,” Ruz said pompously before dropping his voice. “You could try harder.”

Eresthas’s amends-making hadn’t ended with Ruz. The king reasoned that his future killer probably had the support of the many people who despised him. As such, improving his image was the lowest hanging fruit to overturn his fate.

“It’s too early.” Eresthas rubbed between his eyebrows. “I’m still warming up.”

“I’m looking forward to your noon performance, then.”

“Noon? I’ll be exhausted by then,” he moaned.

“Low endurance?”

“Tsk.” He slid down the armchair until he was almost falling off the edge. “Easy for you to say because you don’t know what Urissil wants to use his day off for. Talking to Silephele. For the third time.”

Ruz’s brows arched. “Oracles are addictive after all?”

He knew that Pharris had been a regular at Silephele, but he was actively fighting his fate. Likewise, Ruz had overheard nobles around the palace dropping her name and hinting at her prophecies, but he’d assumed it was just a fad. What if it was more?

“Of course,” Eresthas said. “Especially for old men wobbling on the tightrope of life.”

“He’s on the verge of death? He looked frail, but not sickly.”

“The problem with natural death is that it’s infinitely more difficult to avert it than an assassination. Once you learn you’ll die in a year, or five years, what can you do?”

“I suppose that being glad I enjoyed my life to its maximum span is not the correct answer.”

“Not if you feel it’s too early. Then you’ll try exercising more. Or less. You’ll drink tonics. Then potions. Eat nothing but honey for a month.

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