Between the Veil and Crown

Arvek 24

A state of normalcy was now foreign to the castle and its inhabitants. In the Phrompt royals' absence, preparations were made for their return and the consequent marriage.
Those in charge of preparing the castle and cathedral for the wedding felt that their task was of the upmost importance, and would rush to the king the minute something was not working as planned.
Of course, they had approached Arvek as well, but he had developed a sense of when they wanted him and made certain that it would be harder to find him than someone else. More than once had they interrupted him while attempting to hold urgent conversations with officials or keeping track of what was said in what letter. He knew full well that they would seek to pester his father, and while he told himself that it couldn't be helped, that he needed to make sure that he did not address lords by entirely different names, there was a small part of him that acknowledged that he had little pity for his father's plight, given all that his father had done.
However, his plan was foiled by none other than that man himself when a servant a castle sought him out to inform him that the king requested his presence in the throne room.
He sighed heavily at the request -demand, rather- and slowly dragged his way to the throne room. When he arrived, he found his father so red in the face he was turning an interesting shade of purple, and a crowd of advisors (both of official business and of wedding business) desperately trying to gain his attention.
Masitof caught sight of Arvek. Waving him over furiously, he said, "Come over here and now, and deal with these folk." He gestured violently at the group of wedding officials. "I can't deal with this nonsense, and it is your wedding."
The group wasted no time in switching focus, informing him of all the disasters that had occurred as Arvek stared blankly at Masitof. When he finally turned his attention to them and actually listened to their complaints, he caught the tail end of one saying that the spices from Phrompt had not been sent yet, so how could the cooks possibly cook anything now?
This was what his afternoon was reduced to. Informing this brilliant group of men in charge of making sure the wedding went smoothly that he was not a cook, and with well over a month left, there was sure to be time to make all of the food still.
"Have you first thought about informing the cooks?" Arvek said, not bothering to keep the exasperated sigh out of his voice.
"Your highness, I did not want to act without approval," the man replied.
Anything else. He could be doing anything else at this very moment. He glanced at the others, and none of them felt that what the man said was odd. None of them were capable of acting on their own. How did they get their positions?
"You do not need my permission to speak with the cooks about that," Arvek answered. "Though they may assure you that it would be quite alright, as the wedding does not take place tomorrow."
The man gave him such a pained expression that Arvek had to quickly recount the days in his head to make sure that he was right, and that the two months had not so quickly vanished.
"Yes, yes, but that does not solve the problem of the dead flowers!" another said, taking the pause to share his problem.
At the front of the throne room, Arvek saw the doors open and two guards entered, dragging a man between them. And officer stepped out from behind them and strode to the front, head high and lips pursed. He had a document clutched tightly in his right hand.
Masitof noticed him only seconds after Arvek did. The wedding planners, oblivious to what was happening, attempted to speak all at once when Arvek gave no immediate response, forcing him to lift a hand to silence them.
The advisors that were around the king parted the way, allowing the officer to walk up and hand Masitof the document.
All problems were forgotten in the drama of the moment. Everyone watched with bated breath, waiting for the king to finish reading the document and tell them what was going on.
Apparently there was not much on the paper, as the king read only a few minutes before his eyes stopped moving to read each word. Masitof lowered the paper, looking to the side as he contemplated the situation.
Then he straightened, cleared his throat, and said in a tone that did not betray his frustration of only a little while earlier, "Everyone is to leave this room now."
There was a pause. As his words sunk in, they slowly shuffled out, casting looks over their shoulders in the hopes that they would be stopped and told they could stay. But the king only stopped his closest advisor. Arvek disregarded the command and remained where he was, ready made reasons coming to mind should Masitof challenge his being there.
But Masiftof did not say anything after giving him a quick glance, telling Arvek that he was fine right where he was.
Finally, the area was vacated and the doors of the throne room shut, the noise echoing in the nearly empty room. Only the seven of them remained.
Masitof's jaw clenched briefly before he said, "Explain."
"We found that document on this man-" the officer gestured to the man held by the guards "-a few days ago down south. He was traveling away from the Veil, and could not give proper identification to show he had the authority to carry such a command."
Arvek strode over and gently pulled the paper from his father's hands. Masitof let it slide through his fingers, frowning at the officer's news.

To the Commander of the Guard in the Veil,