pater regis {hiatus}

step iv. keep your cool near courtiers

Needless to say, the days following Tosha's sudden, infuriated departure were tense at best.

Reba had anticipated fallout- how could he not? He had destroyed the small chance that Kada had to defend itself. If he was a subject, he'd be infuriated at his monarch's incompetence. It still horrified him that it wasn't someone else- he was the one who had made such an irreparable error. He was the one that had let the people down.

Max had, as promised, continued to stand by him. But with that came the intense irritation from Max that Reba could simply feel. It was almost like a dull ache, yet it was constant. Reba didn't know if he could take any more of it. Not from Max. 

Sometimes Reba wished that Max wasn't so closed off, so far away. He wished Max could help.

Regardless, Reba had to continue to act as though it wasn't all wrong, as if everything wasn't slipping through his fingers. He held his head up, his chin proud, but feeling guilt every time he passed a skittish servant, a courtier, even his best friend. He was tired.

He was tired. 

He currently sat at his breakfast table, surrounded by courtiers. Normally, he preferred to dine alone, but he decided that damage control was necessary. An invitation to the king's table would normally be considered an honour, but he knew his guests were there merely from obligation. 

The table was full of idle chatter, and Reba was insulted to note that nobody was engaging him in conversation. The Duke and Duchess of Kyat were visiting the castle during the morning, but Reba had forgotten, even though Max had made sure to mention it. His mind was foggy.

I'm useless. 

Reba picked at his eggs, his appetite non-existent. He knew his courtiers did not mind that he was eating slowly- after all, they would have to finish their meal as soon as he did.

The king felt invisible. He also felt slighted. It was highly impolite to not address the sovereign when seated at his table- but Reba wasn't stupid. He knew this was a deliberate action. He knew that this was a dig at him, meant to provoke a reaction from him.

Now was not the time for games and insults. This was a time for unity, goddammit. 

'Sire,' the Duke said, startling Reba. He looked over at his companion, a fake smile on his face. The Duke's own smile was friendly, but his eyes were not. Reba knew his game.

'I must say, you look awfully tired. Have you been resting properly?'

Reba wanted to smack him. Instead, he forced a hearty laugh. 

'I thank you for the concern, my dear Duke, but I am quite alright. I'm simply a little worn out,' he chuckled. The Duke raised his eyebrows. 

'I can imagine you must be. It must be tiring, running from the Ionns, after all.'

The rest of the table chortled. Reba felt a vein throb in his forehead. If these fuckers only knew. He also laughed, but he knew that he was on the verge of snapping.  

'Oh, Kyat, you certainly have some chutzpah,' the King joked. The Duke bowed his head graciously, but the aura rising from him was tense. Reba wanted to crawl under the table. 

'Tell me, Sire,' the Duchess piped up, a spark in her eye, 'how is the situation with Ionnsaigh?' 

You fucking bitch. 

Reba felt trapped. His chest was tight, and all he wanted to do was run to Max for guidance. He knew that that was not a viable option.

Instead, he wiped his mouth with his napkin and turned to the Duchess. 'The situation is difficult, I won't lie to you. However, please be assured that I am doing my best to keep the Ionns in check.'