Chapter 7: Royal Trouble

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The king took a few steps from his throne before continuing. "Please, heroes, stand so that I may see you properly." With a gesture, the pair stood, Boris at stiff attention, and Siegfried held himself very relaxedly. "I must say that you two are a strange pair. While the message that was sent said that there was no hurry and that you should focus on healing, you both insisted on meeting as soon as possible. And when we do finally meet, you are in rather intriguing garb; though there was no need to dress up, I believe this is the first time that such unique attire has been seen in these halls. Especially you, Sir Hext; that armour, or what's left of it, is quite the sight. If you asked, I sure the army would gladly give you a replacement." As he spoke to Boris, Boris raised his hand slightly, showing he wished to speak. "Ha, you certainly are a stiff individual; do not hold back; you both are very much welcome to speak freely."

"Stiff?" Boris whispered to himself but shook his head before his mind could wander, then he cleared his throat before beginning. "Thank you. I mean no disrespect for your Grace, but when I was told that your Grace wished to see us, I knew I had to wear this armour. It is the armour I wore as I lost friends, as I fought those monsters, and as I defended Burkhart. This armour represents those battles and those that were lost. Your Grace wanted to meet the heroes of Burkhart; well, here we are, armour and all."

"Huh...well said sir Hext, well said. But enough about appearances; as I said, that isn't important right now. I was just curious about your choice in armour." With a gentle, if not slightly mischievous, smile, the king reassured Boris.

"Then if I may be so bold," four individuals in the grand hall, the king, the queen, the herald, and Boris, jumped as the short silence was broken by the comment that dripped with sarcasm from the fifth member of the meeting. "Why are we here?" Siegfried was staring at the king, watching his every move, trying to get a read on him. Finally, he began again with a sarcastic, "I don't mean to be rude," before continuing his questioning, "but why am I here? I'm just some farmer from a town that survived an attack from the blues. Yes, I fought them off with Boris, but that isn't enough to warrant a meeting with the country's king. There's more going on here, right?" Siegfried's eyes narrowed on the king, waiting to see his next move.

"Siegfried, how dare you; I told you to be respectful of his majesty! I do not-" Before Boris could genuinely begin to scold his companion, the king raised his hand to silence him.

"You are a wise young man, Mr Bähr." The smile he had held since his guests' arrival now gone, the king spoke with a firm yet quiet conviction. Only the five present in the great hall could possibly have heard his words. "I did not call for you simply because you protected the town of Burkhart. But first, allow me a few questions, if I may; Mr Bähr, is it true that a man by the name of Mr Kemp passed away with the battle's conclusion?"

Surprised, Sieg quietly responded, "Yes, the man known as Mr Kemp has indeed passed; he now walks with the gods beyond the abyss." Siegfried had taken a defensive stance, and there was a silent fury building within him.

"I see... and is it true that he raised you?" the king now stared intently back at Siegfried.

"...Yes, he indeed raised me since I was six; he was my father, and I, his son." Siegfried's voice shook with emotion, but he did not show any sign of weakness physically.

"Okay...thank you, Mr Bähr,...and...I am sorry for your loss."

"In his final moments, he told me to head here and to speak with you; I came to find out why." Siegfried stared at the king, looking for any change in his character.

Scratching his chin, the king returned to his throne and let out a heavy sigh as he settled down. "My father, Thaddeus Golau VIII, before he passed, told me he'd met a man that defied all logic and that that man was the only person he never wanted to anger truly. He had wanted to improve travel throughout the kingdom, which was how the imperial highway system came to be. Well, when they were close to finishing it and the work approached the capital once again, there was a roadblock. About fifteen years old, a young man living in a small cottage in the middle of the forest they were working through. For months, kingdom officials tried to negotiate with the young man to get him to move; if they worked around his home, they would've had to work through the rocky and hilly terrain that surrounded his home, costing far more time, money and supplies than they had intended to spend. Finally, after months without any progress, my father decided to just force the issue, and move the man, whether he liked it or not."

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