The Mournful King

XII. The Servant

The Silent stopped at Andraste's side on the balcony overlooking the celebration. It had been two days since the encounter with Naris and the knowledge that Seva of Essen was alive had swept through Tamaris like the warmth of summer. The nobility was in a hurry to mark the occasion even as their King had the opportunity to finally speak with his mother. It was by all accounts a joyous occasion, which made it difficult to fathom why Andraste had been so reserved. She'd essentially stepped back and bowed out, though undoubtedly her mother would be arriving at any moment to make certain she was acquainted with King Devyn. The Silent studied Andraste's face. Her fair skin looked alabaster in the moonlight, her expression softened by shadows. There was a wistful air to her smile, almost as if she felt that she played no part in this whole affair. But if the Silent knew anything, it was that Seva loved her daughter just as fiercely as her son. More than that, he was certain that Andraste knew it too.

So why was she here, and not in the midst of the revelry? His own absence was no surprise, but hers was assuredly going remarked on. Together, they stood one one of the shadowy upper balconies untouched by the lights of the festivities below, allowing them to observe without being observed.

"You think very loudly," Andraste said softly. It wasn't the first time she'd said it and it probably wouldn't be the last. She sighed and leaned forward, resting her forearms against the marble railing. Some of her hair fell into her face. She quickly brushed it back behind her ear, her eyes focused down at the celebration.

The Silent was becoming adept at telling when she wanted to say something. This was one of those times, but he could also see her struggling with herself, as though she was fighting to stop herself from saying anything. He knew that look. He wore it himself sometimes. It was an expression of someone trying not to crack down the middle under some weight. He turned to face her completely, giving her his full attention.

"They expect me to be all smiles," Andraste said softly. "And I am happy that my mother and Devyn are happy, but..." Her eyes were focused on the glow of the lights in the gardens, but he thought he saw a glimmer beneath her eyelashes. "There's so much else that they don't know. If they did..." She pulled in a deep breath. "It doesn't matter. Sorry, I suppose I'm being silly. I should be able to relax for an evening."

The Silent stepped in, moving so he was at her side and leaning against the rail the same way, close enough that their elbows brushed for a moment. She didn't recoil away and, surprisingly, neither did he. He nodded slightly as he joined her in looking down. The shadow of the Deceiver was lingering for both of them, as far as he could tell. Andraste didn't seem too relieved to have the piece. It seemed to just intensify the invisible weight she carried, adding another shard that could whisper to her. He wondered sometimes how she stayed on an even keel despite all that whispering, cajoling, and threatening. He heard Andraste sigh, a soft sound that carried volumes worth of words. It was tired and wistful, unmistakably melancholic.

"Sometimes I wish I could sleep for a hundred years," Andraste murmured. "But I know not even that would make this easier. My mother told me that one day, I would have the fate of the Imperium in my hands. Now I do, and I wish I didn't. They expect so much from me. I know my family loves me. Maybe the people in my homeland do too. But I don't know if I can be the person they need me to be. I couldn't even tell anyone what Orobas expected of me, what he made me for. Any hint of that could tell the enemy, and so I carried it in silent solitude for such a long time."

The Silent nodded. He could hear the exhaustion and loneliness in her voice. Carrying a dangerous secret, one that kept everyone at arm's length, was an ache that he could understand. He didn't have words to ease it, but sometimes he got the feeling that just his quiet presence could reach Andraste in a way that others couldn't.