Between the Veil and Crown

Arvek 23

His and Rovyna's little excursion around the town never reached the ears of the two kings. Which was for the better, Arvek felt, as the two kings never reached an agreement before it was time for Phrompt royals to leave.
Arvek and Rovyna were not able to have any other in-depth conversations after their trip as well, Tyrovo taking up much of Rovyna's attention. Something that was also for the better. He did not want to get further into his thoughts and feelings of how Selim's kidnapping was being handled with Rovyna. What concerned her he had shared, and that was that. Of course, he would have to see much more of her in a couple of months, but by then, there would be other pressing matters, and perhaps the topic of Selim could be dropped. Or maybe she would understand that it was a sensitive subject and not bring it up again until it was necessary.
Despite his supposed resolve on the matter, however, he found himself replaying the conversation with her over in his head as he watched the Phrompt carriage pull away and disappear down the road.
The parts that replayed the most were her final words and the knowing look she gave him when he shut down the conversation. It was not an innocently asked question. She had purpose, intent. What intent, he did not know. And he did not particularly care to find out.
Or at least, that's what he told himself.
He heard footsteps come up behind him, but did not turn to acknowledge the newcomer. The fact that the person did not make any indication of greeting told him that it was someone of his family.
The person came and stood by his side, also watching the carriage. For a while nothing was said. When the carriage took a turn and disappeared completely behind a building, the newcomer finally spoke.
"So . . . what do you think of your wife?"
It was Veran. His tone clearly said he was there to make fun of him in every way that he could.
Arvek gave him a side glance with a raised eyebrow. "That's certainly something you would like to know, isn't it?" he returned levelly.
Veran flipped himself around and leaned his back against the balcony balustrade. "I have ways of making you talk," he said confidently.
"I think you have me mistaken for another brother."
"I know your weaknesses too, you know."
His response was to place his elbows on the balustrade and press his chin into the fingers he laced together.
"Want my opinion?"
"I'm sure you'll share it anyways," Arvek said with a note of irritation.
"I think she's political ruin," Veran said with finality.
"Bold statement," Arvek answered without flinching. He suspected Veran was probably still a little sore from being left out from the walk around town.
"But true," Veran argued. "I mean, if she's so willing to defy the orders of the kings, then who knows what else she's willing to do."
"It was a walk around town; you really think that is an indication of political ruin?" he scoffed. "I find that she's actually more diplomatic, given the way she would handle her father."
"It was the defiance that was the political ruin," his brother retorted. "Not so much the walk around town itself."
Sighing, Arvek pushed away from the railing and turned to head inside.
"Just something to maybe keep in mind," Veran called out after him.
Arvek stopped and slowly turned back to face his youngest brother. "Perhaps I would be more concerned if she had actively defied our father instead of taking an action that was closer to what he wanted. Or had done something that would cause strife. As it is, I have no evidence, so I will withhold such condemnation." He gave Veran a hard look. "I think it would be wise if you did the same."
Veran didn't even blink. Instead, he had a smug look on his face, as though he were winning in their little disagreement. Then he gave a little shrug. "I guess it's up to you to ignore the subtle signs. But you can't say you weren't warned when she makes your rule to be the worst in history."
"Then perhaps you would like to shed light on some other signs, as it would seem I am completely blind to them," Arvek said coolly.
"It's her entire demeanor," Veran replied readily. "She's holding something back; she's got a secret she's not telling you. Not telling us. And she'll share it at the worst possible moment."
"In other words, you don't have anything," Arvek said. "You're just trying to stir up trouble."
Shaking his head, he left Veran on the balcony.
He did not want to admit that he held a similar sentiment. All those knowing looks. She had something she wasn't sharing, and now Veran had made him realize that she was probably going to share it at the worst moment possible. He clenched his fist as he walked, mulling over possibilities of what she was hiding. Something that would put Harlofelp in a horrible position.
Stop that, he told himself, as his mind pulled up truly terrible ideas. Veran was only bitter because he had been rejected and wanted to get under his skin. It wouldn't be the first time. Therefore, Arvek had no reason to entertain the idea that Veran was actually serious.
However, it was not as easy to convince himself of that. Now he knew that he was not the only one who thought that of Rovyna. Now he knew that at least one other person felt that way. Or at least noticed something enough to try make something bigger out of it. And if Veran felt that way, then certainly others would think the same.
He slowed to a stop as he reached the top of the stairs. Who could he ask to verify that? Who could he trust to admit his doubts to?
In truth, the first person to come to mind was Selim. He wouldn't even have to confess to anything. Selim would simply tell him what he thought of Rovyna, and he would do so without any ulterior motive, of which Veran was suspect.
For obvious reasons, he could not ask Selim.
The next person to come to mind was Masitof. However, Arvek was not sure if Masitof had forgiven him for his insistence that something was to be done about Selim. The length of the grudge was certainly admirable, but highly unhelpful at times like this. Arvek would have really appreciated being able to approach his father with the issue. But under the current circumstances, he doubted that the subject would be given the proper attention.
Cor would probably be honest with him, but this was not an issue he wanted to admit to Cor.
He slowly descended the stairs, names of acquaintances and those he would consider friends flitting through his mind. Most were disqualified because of the sensitive nature of the topic (certain things could not leave the royal family) and others were primarily disqualified for the simple fact that they had not met Rovyna.
When he reached the bottom of the stairs, one last person came to mind. It was a shame, he realized with a pang of guilt, that he thought of her last, since she would be more trusted than anyone else his mind named.
He set out in search of his mother.
The longer he searched for her, the more he realized that she should have been the first one to be considered. After all, out of anyone in the royal family, nay, the entire castle, she was the one most likely to have spent the most time with Rovyna. She had better insight than anyone else.
He was directed to the garden by a couple of the servants. When he stepped through the entrance, he was forcibly reminded of when he was told of the end of negotiations, and Cor spotting two figures meeting each other in the night. But those events were pushed out when he walked by a dying bush of what used to be purple flowers. As though it were yesterday, he vividly remembered Selim cutting some of them for their mother. Slowly, he looked over to the bench he remembered Lia sitting in on that very day.
So vivid was the memory that he half expected to see Lia right there. And when there did turn out to be a woman there, he stepped back in surprise, only to discover that it was not Lia but Niara.
He let out a breath of relief and approached her.
She didn't notice him at first. She was gazing out into the distance, staring at a section of the garden without actually seeing it. Her head was tilted slightly and her hands were folded neatly in her lap. She was so still that if she were not in color, she could have convinced passersby that she was an extraordinarily sculpted statue, there to grace the garden with more beauty just like the other garden statues.
Arvek carefully lowered himself into the spot next to her, not wanting to unnecessarily disturb her from her thoughts. Unfortunately, a pebble was caught up in the movement of his feet and it scraped against the others, causing a noise that stood out against the normal crunching of gravel.
Niara jerked her head up and looked around, the statue like effect being broken in once graceful move.
"Oh! How long have you been there!" she asked, startling a little when she saw him.
"Only just got here," he assured her. He paused, partly because he was rehearsing what he wanted to say in his head, and partly because he was all too aware of what she had been thinking about.
His mother saved him from the silence. "I suspect you did not come out here to look at all the . . . lack of flowers," she said, gesturing to the damage done by autumn.
"No." He hesitated again. "I came to inquire about your opinion."
The wistful, sad look she had on her face disappeared as she straightened even more, her eyebrows raising in interest. "Oh?"
"About Rovyna."
She shifted herself towards him, giving him all of her attention.
"I wanted to know if I was the only one with this impression of her, or if there was someone else who shared it," he continued. "The entire time she was here, I felt as though she . . .she was perhaps hiding something. That she knew something that she wasn't sharing." He stopped, wondering if he should to continue, to explain himself further.
"No, I daresay you aren't," Niara said slowly, looking up as she recalled her memories of the princess. "Though it could just be that she was trying to confident, and that was how she knew how to present confidence."
There was plausibility to that theory. She did seem very confident. "Is that your honest opinion of her, though?" Arvek asked. "I believe you spent the most time with her out of anyone. Is that the impression you got?"
"Do you ask because you believe she could be dangerous?" Niara asked.
Arvek's silence was all the answer his mother needed.
"If I thought she posed a threat to Harlofelp or the crown, I would tell both you and your father," Niara said. "But I never got that impression. I would actually say she seems quite clever." She paused, looking away at the ground. Arvek sensed she had more to say and waited, not wanting to cut her off. She took a deep breath and said, "Perhaps if you would allow me to give you advice?"
He looked at her, confused. "Of course?" he said questioningly.
She opened her mouth and stopped, closing it and pressing her lips together. She took another breath and continued haltingly. "I know that you look up to your father, but I would caution you about following all of his footsteps."
His puzzlement deepened. What did this have to do with Rovyna?
"He is . . . not a perfect man, and I do not want to see you commit the same- make the same errors," Niara said.
For a split second, Arvek wondered if she was aware of what was happening the eastern side of the kingdom. The dirty, worn down towns came back to his mind. Was she asking him to fix that?
"He will have a . . . particular view of Rovyna," she said. "A means to an end- the end being obtaining the Phrompt throne. I would ask that you do not adopt that same view of her. I understand you feel wary about her, as her father is a very, ah, questionable ruler, but . . . . I would ask that- I mean, strongly recommend- rather, I would suggest that you settle your opinion of her with as little influence from your father as much as possible."
He blinked at her, still very confused. He felt that there were threads of what she was saying that made sense, but putting those threads together did not make any sense. Adopt his father's view of Rovyna? He didn't even know his father's opinion of the princess. Didn't his mother notice that he and Masitof were on shaky terms? And the way she was talking . . . did she know something about Rovyna that she didn't want to share, or couldn't share, that she wanted him to be aware of? Was she trying to warn him of something.
Niara seemed to know that she had thoroughly confused him, but the look on her face clearly said she wasn't sure how to fix that confusion. So she could give him a concerned expression, waiting for his response.
"I will, ah, keep that in mind," he said, unable to keep the perplexed tone out of his voice.
She nodded and turned away, letting out a long sigh as she did so.