khaleesi ― 𝐋. 𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐅𝐄𝐘𝐒𝐎𝐍

━━━━ CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

˖*°࿐ chapter thirty-seven.
XXXVII. ARIN LEYGOOD

SILENCE FILLS THE THRONE ROOM, the Unsullied quiet and idling, the Queen folding her hands on her lap and expecting for another person to come in, to save her from talking to the man that had betrayed her, Melora anticipating for a person to come in so she can do something ― translate, talk, anything ― but no one did. It was just them. Laelia wore a new dress. White, like the last one, but without the scales and the neck was a little higher and had two metal dragons sitting on her collarbone. The cape was still attached. Her hair was styled differently; this time, a braid wrapped around a small bump at the back and small little tresses caressed her face each time she moved. Allister was standing beside a Leygood ― Arin Leygood, the imp of Klin Rock ― the brother of Criss, the KingSlayer. The brother of the man that murdered her father and took away her brother's throne. 

The people whom Allister sold her secrets to.

"Your Grace," Allister begins, the Queen in front of him seething with rage. He knew that she had told him if he was in her city, she would have his head thrown into Slaver's Bay, but she had not commanded her soldiers to decapitate him. Yet. "I want to say ―"

"You will not speak," she says calmly. "How do I know you are who you say you are?" 

Arin begins to speak in a gruff voice, but not too hoarse. "If only I were otherwise."

"If you are Arin Leygood, why shouldn't I kill you?" She asks. "To pay your family back for what it did to mine." 

"You want revenge against the Leygoods, I killed my mother, Ella Leygood, on the day I was born. I killed my father, Kaito Leygood, with a bow to the heart. I am the greatest Leygood killer of our time," he retorts, his signature Leygood gold hair styled in curls, brown eyes staring back up at the Greystone with no emotion whatsoever ― the same look the Queen was giving him.

"So I should welcome you into my service because you murdered members of your own family?" 

"Into your service? Your Grace, we have only just met, it's too soon to know if you deserve my service," a hint of sarcasm is laced into his voice, showcasing that he meant something entirely different than what she said. Laelia raises an eyebrow at him, unimpressed at the dwarf in front of her, shaking her foot lightly. 

"You'd rather return to the fighting pits, just say the word."

"When I was a young man, I heard a story about a baby born in the worst storm in living memory. She had no wealth, no lands, no army ― only a name and a handful of supporters, most of whom probably thought they could use that name to benefit themselves. They kept her alive, moving her from place to place, often hours ahead of the men that had been sent to kill her. She was eventually sold off to some deity on the edge of an unknown world and that appeared to be that. Then, a few years later, the most well-informed person I knew told me that this girl without wealth, lands, or armies had somehow acquired all three, in a very short span of time, along with three dragons. He thought she was our best last chance to build a better world. Thought you're worth meeting, at the very least," Arin shrugs.

"And why are you worth meeting?" A slight shake in her voice implied that she was mostly thinking about the 'sold off to some deity on the edge of an unknown world' part, showing that she was a little weak at her husband's death. "Why should I spend my time listening to you?"

"Because you cannot build a better world on your own," Arin replies to her. "You have no one at your side who understands the land you want to rule. The strengths and weaknesses" ― Melora and Laelia take a look at each other ― "of the houses that will join or oppose you."

"I will have a very large army," she says, fiddling her thumbs, her eyes wandering around the place.

"And very large dragons," she attaches. 

"Killing and politics aren't always the same thing. When I served as Hand of the King, I did quite well with the latter considering the king in question preferred torture animals to leading his people. I could do an even better job advising a ruler worth the name. If that is indeed what you are."

"So you want to advise me?" Arin nods once to her. "Very well. What would you have me do with him? I swore I would kill him if he ever returned."

"I know," he steps closer to the stairs. 

"Why should the people trust a Queen that can't keep her promises?"

"Whomever Ser Allister was when he started informing on you, he is no longer that man. I can't remember ever seeing a sane man as devoted to anything as he is to serving you," Arin responds. "He claims he would kill for you and die for you and nothing I have witnessed gives me reason to doubt him. And yet he did betray you." He begins stepping up the stairs, the Unsullied soldiers pointing their spears at him, but Laelia waves them away, quietly telling them that it was alright. "Did he have an opportunity to confess his betrayal?"

"Yes. Many opportunities."

"And did he?"

"No, but was forced to do so."

"He worships you" ― less than Loki did though ― "he is in love with you, I think" ― Loki was more in love with me than Allister ever would  ― "but he did not trust you with the truth"  ― Loki did ― "an unpleasant excuse, to be sure, but one of the great significance to you did not trust that you would be wise enough to forgive him."

"So I should kill him?" 

"A ruler who kills those who are devoted to her is not a ruler who inspires devotion," he answers. "You're going to need to inspire devotion and a lot of it, you're ever to rule across the Narrow Sea. But you cannot have him by your side when you do."

No comments are followed.

Laelia's eyes are glued to Allister's shaken figure, his tear-stained ones staring back at her. "Remove Ser Allister from the city." He walks away, sad, that his Queen would not allow him to stay in her city. Outside the city walls, Allister pulls down the sleeve of his shirt and stares at the small ridges in his inner forearm. 

Greyscale.