pater regis {hiatus}

step i. count to ten

'Tell Ionnsaigh to shove their stupid treaty up their-'

'Sire, don't.'

'I'm not going to sign it, Max.'

'Sire.'

'Send it back to them with the message "fuck you".'

'Sire, that's impossible, and you know it. You have to have this signed today, it's the only way to ensure Kada's safety.'

Reba glared up at his strategist and friend, Max, who was currently standing in front of his desk, holding out a letter that was formal in appearance. The king knew that no good could come of this.

God. If someone had told him that a large part of being on the throne would mean his pride being dented, he would have told them to stick the crown up their ass. Then again, he hadn't expected anything good to come from this job.

Max sighed. 'Don't be disagreeable, Sire. Not now. We need you to be in control. Your country needs you to keep it together.'

Reba groaned and buried his head in his arms. 'That's all I ever do, Max. All I ever do is sit around while I drive my country into the ground,' he mumbled, trying to keep it together. He heard Max sigh again, then walk closer to his desk.

Reba held up a hand. 'Don't move any closer with that fucking thing.'

'Reba.'

He looked up at Max, whose face held an expression of deep disapproval. 'You're behaving like a child, not a ruler. Sign, or Ionnsaigh is going to take the rejection badly. We'll lose more land, yes, but we'll be protecting the people. They don't deserve to die just because you feel slighted,' he explained tersely.

Reba scoffed. 'Ionnsaigh will take any gesture we make badly. This will keep the peace for, what, another six months? Then it'll start up again. Max, we're in too far now. We can't keep buying time. King Saor's got the upper hand, don't you see?' Reba's words grew progressively louder. Max raised a finger, silencing the king.

'Hush, Sire. There's guards outside.'

'The guards can go to hell. All of you can. I'm sick of this,' Reba muttered. He stared down at the papers on the desk in front of him. Various treaties, different missives from Ionnsaigh, from Altivo. An impending visit from the ruler of Ikari. A letter to some ridiculous ball in Gordost. As if I have time for partying.

What would attending a ball make him look like, anyway? He'd already lost so much to the Ionns. To sign a treaty such as this, and then to party? Sickening. The media would have a field day, and he'd never forgive himself for it.

Reba knew that he was going to sign the damned treaty. He'd be crazy not to. Ionnsaigh's troops outnumbered his, ten to one. To lose their trades from Ionnsaigh would be to lose a large amount of Kada's essentials. The country would be in disarray within the span of a week, and he, the king, would be responsible for his people's suffering.

Not only would that mean their suffering, but his. How would he conceal his... abilities, with such an emotional response to the hurt his country would endure?

He'd be talked into it by Max, his weakness for Kada and its people, his promise. That fucking promise.

He felt a finger touch his hand, and he looked up at Max, who had a small smile on his face. Reba knew what Max's game was. Calm me down, Max, the king willed. The other boy nodded, knowingly.

'Count to ten,' Max instructed. Reba closed his eyes. 1. 2. 3.

'Everything will be alright, Reba. Your people will be safe. Your father will be proud.'

4. 5. 6.

'Ionnsaigh cannot do anything to Kada. We're untouchable.'

7. 8. 9. 10.

'Your people will be safe.'

Reba opened an eye, reluctantly. 'You don't have to lie to me, Max. I know what's coming.'

Max bowed his head, then looked back at Reba. 'Sign, Sire.' He handed the envelope containing the treaty over to the king, who took it gingerly and opened it.

Reba scanned over the words on the missive, fighting back the anger that was rising in his stomach, his chest, all over. He caught certain words that made his heart ache with the sort of hopelessness he hadn't felt in years.

- we request the resitctions on all Ionn-born citizens be annulled- - unchecked passage of all Ionns into Kada's territory- we ask that his Majesty return the territories of Dauda and Pharkinu -we humbly suggest that his Majesty does not ignore our requests-

Reba snickered humorlessly, despite himself. 'Humbly, eh?' he muttered. 'You Ionns are a funny people.'

'Sire. Focus,' Max reminded him. Reba looked up at him, desperate. 'Max, I can't just return Dauda and Pharkinu. What will happen to the citizens?'

Max's face was as serious as ever, but even Reba could see the pain in his eyes. 'It won't be up to you to decide that, anymore, Sire.'

Reba blanched, and clenched the paper in his hand, not caring if it was damaged. 'A death sentence,' he said simply. Max paused, then nodded. 'In short, yes.'

There is more blood on my hands that I will never wash away.

Max placed a hand on the king's shoulder. 'You cannot allow yourself to think that way. You must be ruthless.' Reba bit his lip.

You cannot do this to me, Saor.

The king could almost see the shit-eating grin on that Ionn's face as he picked up the pen, signing quickly, and handing the treaty over to Max. Max's face was solemn, and as comforting as ever. 'I'll make sure this is sent off quickly, Sire,' he said, making to leave the king's quarters.

Please don't make me deal with this alone, Max.

Max turned around to look at Reba, who had his face turned down. The king knew the consequences of what he'd done, and he knew that his father would be disgusted with his actions. He knew that he'd condemned men, women, and children to death.

Max walked over to the king, placing an arm around his slim shoulders. Reba knew he hadn't been eating properly, but while there were subjects starving, he would not eat more than his share.

Are you sure it isn't the guilt of your actions?

'You will never have to face anything alone, Reba. We're in this together,' Max murmured, and it took the little willpower Reba had left to not break down.

'What do I do now?' he whispered. Max sighed, pulling away. He tilted Reba's chin so that the king was looking into his eyes, and Reba was oddly reminded of the night of his father's death.

'You will not fail me. You never have.'

'You'll pull yourself together, and you'll prepare yourself for the next day. You will not fail.'

Reba nodded. He would survey, not attach. He couldn't afford to love his country too deeply, because to love too deeply would mean to fail, and he would die before he failed.