Renovating the Heart (FFXV)

XLII) Winds of Change

Ignis frowned down at his phone, staring at the unanswered text messages on the screen. Every waking moment he knew Rue was alone was anxiety-inducing. He checked his connection to make sure he hadn't simply missed something. Nothing. Frowning, he barely caught the end of Prompto's sentence and glanced up before setting his phone aside with a sigh.

"I'm sorry?"

"I asked how Rue's doing...?" Prompto frowned, cocking his head to the side. "You doing okay, Iggy? You look a little distracted."

"I'm fine," the advisor replied curtly, resisting the urge to check his phone again.

"... Don't like her being alone?"

"Pardon?" Ignis scowled, his eyes boring into Prompto's. The gunman shifted uncomfortably.

"Oh, well, you just seem really on edge and I thought maybe it had to do with Rue. She was really hurt and she needs help. That's all."

"... I suppose." Ignis straightened in his seat and glanced at his monitor once more before standing and shrugging his jacket on.

"Where are you going?" Prompto got to his feet too, uncertain.

"To the throne room." Ignis passed Prompto stiffly, refusing to look back when he spoke. "Where my true duties lie."

"O-okay. See you around!" Prompto stammered.

The door to the office closed, and the gunman sighed, looking around the stuffy room tiredly. Ignis strode through the halls with his head held high and his shoulders squared. Everyone who passed would know—should know—that he was the royal advisor if they didn't before seeing him then. Everything demanded the utmost attention from any passerby—everything but his eyes. Those were hazy, indicating that his mind was anywhere but at Noct's side at the throne listening to the ramblings of angry old elders who felt the need to express the same opinion several days in a row before attempting to overthrow the king in favor of some ridiculous change again. His mind was an endless struggle between Rue and his work, which he had been dedicated to for so long before she'd entered the picture.

Sighing, Ignis ignored the protests of the pesky little guard who had yet to learn she wasn't all that important and opened the doors to the throne room. His steps were quick up the stairs, unfazed by the smooth, slippery floor or the narrow path. His entire being was conditioned to remember every square inch of this place, every face, and every detail shared in every whispered conversation around him. Noctis's eyes boredly turned up to Ignis when his advisor turned sharply to stand by his side, his gloved hands reaching up to give his jacket a sharp, straightening tug.

"Where've you been? Not like you to be late."

"I'm not late, I was preoccupied."

"That doesn't mean you weren't late." Noctis went from slouching to the left to slouching to the right, watching the door and heaving a sigh. "I don't have any meetings planned for today. Dunno why I have to be here."

"In case anything might arise."

"Can't they get me from anywhere else? I don't remember Dad sitting here so much."

"Times have changed. The world is rebuilding." Ignis touched his glasses, glimpsing down at the young king. "Besides, your court time is only four hours long. You'll manage."

"Four hours of staring in silence."

"Who says it has to be silent?"

"I do." Noctis straightened, lolling his head to the left with a wince. "You're boring and my neck's cramping."