The pair walked through the parting crowd to make their way up to the raised dais where King Caisa and his queen, Melanie, currently sat. Melanie was his natural aunt, sister to his father. They had not met, but Leía always had nice things to say about the woman she considered to be her friend. As they approached, Leander looked up into his aunt’s eyes, and he saw a twinkling warmth, and felt the calm serendipity she was feeling in anticipation of meeting him.
“A noble ambition. I look forward to watching you succeed,” Leander replied honestly.
“Thank you.”
They reached the King and Queen and Prince Lucien made short work of the introductions. “May I present Lord Leander Talius.” Leander hid his smile—after just talking of removing formal forms of address, here Lucien was doing just the opposite.
As was expected of him when meeting a kingdom’s monarch, Leander bowed deeply from the waist, far deeper than the respect he had just shown the prince. “Your Majesties, let me express my deepest gratitude for both your goodwill in allowing me sanctuary in your proud nation, as well as an invitation to join in your celebrations.”
King Caisa was an old man with a kind face. The crows feet at the corners of his eyes darkened as his face crinkled when he smiled. “It is our honour, Lord Leander. You are most welcome. For as long as you wish to stay, you havea place with us.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Leander responded. “I am but a temporary guest.”
“And what do you think of the city so far, Lord Leander?”
“I find Saeren to be truly a spectacle, Your Majesty. A city full of people who love their king, and rightly so.”
King Caisa smiled, a genuine one as his face flushed with the supposed pleasure of being complimented by a divine being. He was a proud man, Leander could tell that instantly.
“I’m glad to hear that. Are there any sights or experiences you have enjoyed particularly?”
“The Bazaar was a delight. The vibrant colours and aromas were unlike anything I have ever experienced before.”
“Ah yes, our market is renowned. Did you have the chance to sample the local cuisine?” the king asked, eyes alight with the chance to speak of his beloved kingdom.
“I could not avoid it even if I tried, Your Majesty,” Leander laughed, falling into a natural cadence of pleasantries with ease. “The rice and spiced lamb was a symphony on my tongue.”
The king inclined his head in agreement. “I’m very pleased you enjoyed it. Our culinary traditions are a source of great pride in Vyrica.” He waved a hand, as if gesticulating a sign for the whole nation. “Is there anything else you wish to explore during your time in Saeren?”
“I’ve heard ample talk of the ancient ruins to the east of the city. I should very much like the opportunity to visit them. With your permission, of course.”
“It would be my pleasure to arrange a guide to showyou around the ruins. Prince Jarryn has also expressed an interest in them, perhaps you can go together.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Leander smiled warmly, if not genuinely, “your generosity knows no bounds.”
“It seems Saeren is a haven for lost souls suddenly. A fallen demigod and a kinslaying prince. What are we to do with the pair of you?”
It was a rhetorical question, but Leander felt compelled to answer. He opened his mouth to speak. “I’m sure Prince Jarryn and I require minimal upkeep, Your Majesty.”
The king laughed. “We shall see. We hope to see more of you at court, Lord Leander.”
Registering the clear dismissal from the king, Leander bowed a final time and backed away, waiting until he had retreated a few steps before turning around and continuing to walk away. He had, truth be told, expected a longer introduction, given how much the king supposedly yearned to meet him.
Lucien fell into step beside him. “And breathe.”
Leander barked out a laugh. “It wasn’t that bad. Meeting my father for the first time was significantly worse.” Leander probably shouldn’t have said that, but he couldn’t take it back now that it was out there.
There was something about Lucien that made Leander’s tongue become loose and he knew it was not due to the alcohol he had consumed. Nothing got past Lucien. He absorbed everything, but it was also rare that any information came back out. Leander knew this from his mother’s warnings, and he needed to be careful with what he said to the next king of Vyrica.
“Lord Flavian is rather… intimidating, yes,” Lucien agreed quietly. “A small part of me is hoping he retires when my father passes, then I can elevate Verin to the position of chief advisor. Your brother is much easier to talk to, less judgemental, and generally all round more receptive to my… more progressive ideas about what Vyrica, and indeed Saeren, needs.”
Leander didn’t know his father well, but his initial impression of the man was that he would retire when he was dead. And, even then, he imagined that if anyone could find a way to keep on working, Flavian Talius would be that man to continue serving Vyrica from Serai’s underworld domain.
“Though I suppose he has assisted my father to rule this kingdom with compassion,” Lucien continued. “He is a good man, there is no denying that.”
Nodding, Leander made a noncommittal sound of agreement to what Lucien was saying. Flavian frightened Leander, that much was certain. He couldn’t imagine that glacial, inhospitable man being described as compassionate. All his experiences with his father had been impassioned at best and borderline hostile at worst. Maybe it was just him. It was not unreasonable to assume that Leander himself was responsible for Flavian’s piss poor attitude around him.
Perhaps if Leander did just as his father asked, perhaps if he proved himself a worthwhile member of the family. Perhaps… oh, who was he kidding? He downed the remainder of his sparkling wine just as a slave was passing by with a tray of more drinks. He swapped out his empty glass for a new one.
