The Red King [Book II]

III

Something was brewing.

ㅤThe mercenaries weren't as calm as usual, tense and worried, although they knew little of whatever situation was unfolding; the feeling had trickled down from their superiors. Even the Ankaid soldiers had quietened, suspecting, waiting. They knew nothing but anticipated an opportunity like jackals.

ㅤBut Alex had been locked out. Fletcher was refusing to see him.

ㅤ'I've gotten the point already,' he'd insisted to Fletcher. 'I came here to be used; so fucking use me!'

ㅤFletcher's aggressively patient stare had straightened him. It was at that point the scholar had finally snapped and forbade him from approaching again. Alex had been left without a purpose and now without a friend.

ㅤDrifting around jobless, a pressure straining in his limbs as the aimless agitation grew, Alex would walk around the palace as if hurried by multiple destinations. In reality, there was nothing awaiting his attention.

ㅤDays passed like so, the tension rising like the stinging heat, and Alex's solace was found under the oppressive weight of the clear sky, wandering around the city like he was a knight retaining order. He imagined being in Bullmar under his father's orders.

ㅤIn the mirror, he'd realised the sun had severely darkened his skin, and he'd stopped.

ㅤAt night, he'd nursed some wine on the balcony, deep in thought about nothing. Sometimes there were hints of laughter from the palace grounds, disturbing the secretive chirps of crickets. Absentmindedly, he nudged the bottle back and forth on the stone balustrade and it scraped lightly.

ㅤThere were some stars out. Alex didn't believe they were the dead like Khearians did but those faraway lights, at least, did feel both familiar and distant like the dead and the weight of loss sat in Alex's gut. His slow gaze landed on the constellation of lopsided rabbit and he turned himself in for the night. Despite the warmth, his back had been cold.

ㅤThe executions had inexplicably paused after Lord Lagarde, despite the nobles Alex knew they still had in custody. It confused them all. It was something they'd grown used to. Alex overheard two soldiers in the canteen suggesting that both the Ankaid Council and the Senate were furious with James' bloody spree. Alex doubted that was the reason.

ㅤWhilst eating alone in the canteen, an unmistakable child's voice shrieked nearby and Alex snapped his head up, heart sinking, only to find the noise had been made in delight. A soldier was scolding his daughter for being where she shouldn't, but a smile was stuck on his face.

ㅤAlex stared for a long time, the food on his plate staling. He'd lost his appetite. So he left.

ㅤInstead of annoying the maids by returning to his room to exercise privately, not wanting to place himself under the hateful scrutiny of armed Ankaid soldiers at the training grounds, Alex washed himself in tepid water, took a horse, and left the palace. He notified no one.