Collaterals

Is That So?

Mother would have his head.

She would have his head and hang it from the door of Alyawuz.

If not for the words he'd just uttered, then for the scandal brewing behind him: audible gasps,  shouts of surprise, and entire debates having erupted at every inch of every table. Khaled stood tall, holding Haitham's gaze evenly as his mind grasped at some not-so-comforting pretenses:

it was true. Mostly. Somewhat. Almost, it was almost true. 

He would have married her come Winter's end, just into Spring's embrace, so that she had every excuse to remain in Aradia for a few more months. He would have settled his affairs here in Aradia, given clear instruction to his brothers, and set sail to Tain so that their marriage was recognized by the very Empire. He would have had her, by every means possible, and she would be safe in his arms. Instead she stood atop blood soaked ground, hunched over a bejewelled sword that he was unsure she could wield come another duel, or another dawn. 

This, at least, wold buy her time. 

Haitham shook his head, reaching for a glass. A cupbearer was quick to accomodate, and Khaled could do nothing but watch as Hiatham took his sweet time drinking. He set the cup down, looking to Khaled, "Did you ask my father in his white cloth, then, just before I set him into his grave?"

"Your Highness—."

Only Haitham had already thrust himself forward, face red as he screamed, "You jest! You jest when their bodies are not yet cold in their graves, you jest!"

Khaled watched Haitham reach for another cup, quaffing it down faster than Khaled thought healthy. And so the Young Lord took the moment to speak, "It was His late Highness, Prince Ali that I first asked. I had his blessing, in place of the King. This was after Ali was crowned rightful heir."

He winced at the mention, clutching the cup as he pushed himself back onto the seat. His earlier outburst seamed to drain him, and now he had his head leaned back onto the chair, watching Khaled from beneath tired lids, "Is that so?"

"Yes, your Highness."

"Well, then, you were not engaged, were you?" He all but spit. "My brother never reigned as King, and so your engagement was unrecognized, no?"

"Only I did ask the King."

"And when did you do that?!" Haitham was slurring the words, now, his eyes redening.

Khaled kept his face neutral as he said, "When your Highness was asleep. After your...surgery. I had spent time with his Majesty during his final days."

"And you received his blessings?"

"Yes."

It took everything, absolutely everything in Khaled not to look to the only other person who had been in that room when Khaled had spoken to the King: the blue-eyed Diviner. He stood, now, in the periphery of Khaled's vision, just a few steps away from the Boy King, as he always was. For a frightening moment, Khaled thought the robed figure had swayed into movement. But Khaled was faster, fishing his necklace from around his neck, out of the cover of his shirt, "I have had our wedding bands here, your Highness. We would have asked your permission after your crowning, only, with Leila as your champion..."

Haitham gave the rings a long look, his good hand clutching the edge of the table as he remained unmoving. It was as thawing ice that he began to move, nodding his head as his tongue seamed to kiss his teeth, moving to the side of his good arm and dipping his head slightly. 

"Very well," he finally amended. "Very well. I will not renege my Father's swor-word! But know this, Lord Khaled!" He pointed his finger at him, "If she should come out of this and deny these claims, you will be ever the fool!" And at that he broke out into a boisterous laugh, throwing his head back as he fell back into his slouch.

And just like that the room let out that horrible breath it'd been holding, clamouring chatter crescendoing as Khaled bowed, stumbled and pushed through a forming crowd, barely glancing to whomever clutched his shoulder, bid him to speak, barely registering the shouts of congratulations or the attempts to grab him aside for oh, but just a moment and—

it was not until Khaled had stumbled out the Banquet's hall, their doors shut behind him, that he finally gasped for breath.