Heir of Cinders [FADING EMBERS #1] - ON HOLD

19.1 - Times Change

The capital welcomed Jonathan with somber skies, accompanied by the smell of rain that had gathered in the distance.

It had been sunny when they'd first set out on their last leg of the return trip from Glein. Their arrival seemed to have summoned the rainclouds to herald them, like a sinister omen, desaturating the buildings around them.

A pair of women stood in the distance, their long gowns billowing around them in the crisp wind. One of them had ebony locks held in a tightly-woven bun- a familiar silhouette Jonathan could recognize from miles away. The other was taller, her hair the color of coarse sand, albeit muddied by the lack of sunlight. The Shield of the King surmised that it was Lady Aine Sulvayn, another lady that made up the Queen's Circle. He frowned a little, his eyes scouring the vicinity in an attempt to spot others that may have come to greet them.

He did not see Lady Meara Friell among the pair, nor anywhere in sight. Was she not there to greet her betrothed? The half-calaian stole a glance to the silver king that rode by his side, but found only apathy on his chiseled features.

The women bowed in tandem as they approached. Faisuri's face was resplendent amidst the gloom, propagating an almost-childlike joy at their arrival. The sight filled his heart with an odd warmth, bringing a smile to his own face. Yet her eyes were not reserved for him, resting immediately upon the king that led them.

"Nice weather, is it not?" hummed the girl, whimsically.

Aidan frowned and raised his gaze to the sky, as if making sure the two were standing underneath the same heavens. "It's overcast," he pointed out.

The girl cocked her head to one side, placing her obscured fingers upon her chin and rubbing it in a thoughtful manner. "Is it? That's strange." The sharp twinkle of a smirk that Jonathan had learned to spot ignited within her eyes. "I must've mistaken you for the sun."

Daud coughed, deliberately, like a felid calaian choking on a ball of fur. The king's mask of quiet sobriety fractured, the ends of his lips fighting to keep themselves from turning upwards. There was almost a visible shift of mood throughout the entire party, though all struggled to suppress their respective reactions.

"It is no wonder the skies are so gray. After all, His Highness's eyes stole all the blue," the rascal of a lady continued, following up her words with a playful wink.

"Faisuri, one more word, and I'm cutting our blood ties," Daud interjected, half-laughing, half-snorting, and fully cringing.

The lady of the east shrank at his words. "Don't be like that, Daud," she sulked. "I am merely standing in for Meara at the moment, greeting the king as she would in her stead."

"Oh, please! Such cringeworthy nonsense could only spout from your mouth!" her cousin scoffed.

A chuckle forced past Jonathan's lips as he watched their childish squabble. It took him back to the simpler times, where the three of them as children would spend their days under the brilliant cerulean skies without much care in the world. The aged stills of those moments in his mind were tinged with fondness.

Yet even now, after so many years had passed, they had scarcely changed. Although their days were not nearly as carefree, with the new burdens they each had to shoulder, the three of them were still together. Jonathan began to wonder how long this would last. Would they- no, could they- forever be comrades til the end of their lives?

After all, ever since he became the Shield of the King, part of him had always feared they were standing on thin ice.

No, things have changed, he silently realized as his bark-brown eyes continued to seek the onyx ones of his childhood friend. In her gleeful distraction, they adamantly refused to meet his.