28: Questions

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Nyx was already about to spring up when Iris quickly stopped him.

"Nyx, before we leave! Do you have a little time?"

Of course. He let himself fall back into the chair and got more comfortable again. What is it?

"Today it is me who wishes to know so much. Will you sit with me and answer my questions?" Iris sat up a little straighter to meet Nyx' eyes on the same level.

He leaned back and looked at his wife's determined expression.

Hm. I have kept too silent until now, he admitted. You can ask me anything.

"The vassal told me about the founding legend."

I figured you would have questions about it. He always tells it as though it's all historical facts, Nyx commented with amusement.

"What do you think about it?"

Well, we do not have much evidence. But if you ask me, fighting for three days straight is quite impossible, no matter how strong one may be. Personally, I believe this myth refers to something like a tournament rather than one on one combat. There are also documents that suggest that the defeated brother might have lived on for several years after. But our traditions, of course, are based on the popular myths.

Iris thought about Nyx' words for a moment. It reminded her of what Aren had said. The way in which the people had shaped its past had thus influenced its present. This cruel tradition of blood-shed between siblings, between children and parents. So it was indeed possible it was not even based on real events.

"Their imagination has so much power over how people hand down the past...", she whispered.

You're right, Nyx sighed. So much so, the actual events become a mystery.

"And the myth in turn becomes reality", Iris continued and looked at him empathetically. "A reality that causes so much pain."

Nyx looked down and closed his eyes for a moment to trace the flow of Iris' warmth sinking into his legs.

I could have evaded it. ButI chose to live, he then suddenly stated and a thin veil of grief darkened his aura. His knuckles brushed over his beard a few times. During his silence, Iris held still, waiting for him to say more.

Under normal circumstances, I would never have been eligible as heir to the throne. A mute prince! How in the world was I to rule a kingdom without a voice? There were kings who threw their newborns into the fire for less.

This last remark sent a chill down Iris' spine. There were stories of kings as cruel as that. So those had been the truth?

But my father always told me that he understood I had the potential from looking into my eyes, and from how I grabbed his fingers the first time he held me. He declared me his heir a few months later and instructed me in the same way his father had educated him. And all this while, the whole court spun this cobweb of rumours and images around me to hide the fact that Ihad no voice. And because I chose to stay alive entangled in it, because I developed the will to stand above anyone in any discipline, my hands were ultimately tainted with his blood.

"I am sure he was proud of you." Upon hearing Iris' warm encouragement, Nyx let out a bitter fragment of laughter.

He was. He was the kind of man who valued his principles and the tradition over his own life.

Nyx paused for a moment, while his bride's tightening muscles reassured him of her close attention. Embodying the ideal king as sketched out by this tradition was the best way to establish myself as the crown prince. Smarter than anyone, stronger than anyone, crueller than anyone.

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