The King's Collie

Part V, Chapter 14: Of Sun And Shadow

It was that exact moment that the King regained his senses, indeed. He looked at his own hands as he uncovered his face, and looked at them with horror. He looked around his room, with its extravagant construction and decoration.

Such a wonderful bedroom for a murderer. Such a wonderful castle for a murderer!

He had to get out of here, but not yet. He stripped, then wore some simple pants and a brown hood, his outfit when in need of a disguise. He wore these, and walked out, unable to be discerned by even Marco or Lætitia. Skipping any food, he walked out.

He made his way out of the castle grounds, and onto the path that led through the main streets of Valentia. He hadn't been out of the castle since— since Cameron was still alive. That hadn't been that long ago, not even a week. He just hated it, though. It felt like much longer since then.

Things had surely changed. He had gone from being a well-liked and well-respected king to one that was crazed. He heard the conversation as he passed along, his hood over his large head. They were similar to the ones he had in his dream... if that even was a dream. He was beginning to suspect it wasn't...

"Felix the Good, hm? He killed Sir Cameron. I lost my respect for him," an owl said.

"A legacy of gratitude and righteousness now plagued by recent actions," a mule described to one of his friends.

"I should think he's incapable of ruling," a bird posited.

"He is only grieving," a sheep sympathetically said.

"What a fool," the bird replied. "He is king, privileged and strong, and yet wallowing like a weakling."

"You don't know grief, then. The strongest and richest would crumble," the sheep stated, "would he lose the things important to any man as he has."

The lion had to keep pulling the hood over his face, as he made his way further and further away from the castle, getting smaller in the distance before disappearing behind other buildings. He was finally getting to the outside of town, past the alleys and roads and to the paths and cottages.

He kept track of the roads, and asked for a few directions, when he finally came across it. Old Trader's Road. He had never even bothered to take a visit to the collie's home, having not went with Ophelia when she went to pick him up. It was visibly more povertious than the rest of the town, but it seemed things were improving somewhat.

He walked along this dirt path, looking at the children play and the adults watch. They were singing a refrain from one of the collie bard's songs. Of course. How could his work not be known here, at his home?

"I knew Cameron!" a portly pigeon baker said, with a few people listening. "He used to come by, every single morning, and swipe a stale bun for breakfast when I wasn't looking. Of course I ended up just giving them to him, it wasn't any trouble. But to think... oh, to think of who he would become in so short a time!"

"I knew Cameron, too," a cat said, waving his tail. "He was my best friend when we were kids. We chased each other around in his father's field."

Felix covered his head with a paw, once more, running away from whatever chatter was about him. Soon, he arrived to the place. He knew it was the one. It was filled to the brim with tributes. There were flowers, food, and sheets upon sheets of blank paper, save for them being lined with empty staves. Even a few ornate lutes, a few of which the disguised king took up and examined, to find that they had Cameron's name and birthday engraved within... along with the day he perished.

On the wall of the makeshift shrine was a framed sketch, recently hung. It was a bust of none other than Sir Cameron himself, quite similar to the portrait that had been done of him and the king. Actually, with a closer look at the signature, it was indeed Rhys's signed work, after his own.