Sen Dorval did as the advisor ordered, lifting Tobius’s limp body from the top of the spear-shaped backboard of the throne. His body made a sickening squelch as he was released, the two near-cleaved halves flopping about, followed by a mass of slimy entrails and slick blood falling from the cavity ripped through his abdomen.
Wesley feigned shock by forcing himself to cry and cover his mouth with his hands as the king’s bodyguard dropped his body to the floor. Isec could see straight through the act he was putting on, but it appeared genuine enough that the advisors were believing him.
Oren Harrin, known for his focus on detail, demanded an explanation of what had happened. His shock manifested into a booming voice and a desire to understand the circumstances.
Hart Moralis, on the other hand, remained quiet. He was just as taken aback as Isec, despite not knowing the real truth.
A procession of guards and city watch entered the throne room seconds later, establishing an organised perimeter and ensuring no one else would enter at that time, just as they had been trained with situations like this.
Isec was asked by Oren Harrin as to how the king had managed to impale himself. He glared at Wesley, seeing the threatening gaze in the prince’s eyes.
Isec gulped and regurgitated the story Wesley had implanted in his head, fearful of the repercussions of saying anything other than what he had been told to say.
Officials moved in and out of the room. The True Luminance was brought in to bless the body.
Even he was horrified by the sight.
“My king, what have you done to yourself?” the True Luminance muttered as he knelt by the pale body before whispering a prayer to the Moon Mother.
Most did their duties. Some wept. Some whispered. Almost all were horrified.
It was a bizarre sight- the king, taking his own life in such a freak accident.
Oren Harrin recorded details in one of his many record books in a frenzy of words. His trembling hand scribbled across the paper, determined to write down every important fact he could get.
Wesley was escorted to his quarters by Sen Dorval for both his protection and to spare him any further hardship. He glared one last time at Isec, a stare that not only made sure Isec was going to stick to what he had been ordered to say, but a warning of what would come if he did not.
Isec felt the walls crumble around him. Fear took over. A deep, insidious fear. Fear of death, fear of what the maniacal Wesley would do to him if he spoke up.
The court believed Wesley without a spot of doubt, it seemed.
King Tobius was dead. A tragic, drunken fall.
No one could see through the charade of tears. No one but Isec.
Chapter 45 - The Light and the Dark
Katryna Bower sat proper at the table in the dining hall where she had reunited with much of her family almost a week previous, as House Bower’s council entered.
Daylight flooded in through the drawn curtains of the floor-to-ceiling arched windows, allowing a cascade of colour to shimmer across the room’s modest décor.
“Please, be seated,” Katryna said, offering an open hand to the seats around the long Efferven pinewood table.
Immediately after the attack at Stonesilt Harbour by the monstrous hunchback that had lumbered from the steaming ocean, Katryna ordered the formation of an emergency council to bring peace and security back to Ravenrock.
The people were scared.
With the king and queen dead, Prince Finnigan badly wounded, Prince Rowan on the run, and the threat of assassins and monsters, Katryna felt it was her duty to do something about the dangers that Camridia was facing.
The kingdom had no single ruler anymore.
Ser Arthus Medonia sat by Katryna’s side having changed out of his bloodied clothing and armour. He nodded to Katryna with an expression of pride, clearly grateful that they were both still breathing.
A physician had applied some dressings to the High Sword’s head after sustaining some minor injuries from the explosions of debris during the attack. The cloth was already beginning to get splotchy with red stains.
With the High Sword was Ser Daren Wood, the commander of Ravenrock’s garrison and one of the soldiers lucky enough to survive the fight against the hunchback. He was young, perhaps a few years older than Katryna, with a chiselled jawline and a shaved head. His face was still dirtied from the fight, having not had a chance to clean.
Katryna had not yet officially met him but had requested that Arthus find and bring him to their council. Any man willing to risk his life to save others and protect his city was a man she was willing to trust.
“It’s good to meet you, my lady,” Daren said, bowing his head.
“Shame it isn’t under better circumstances, but nonetheless I am grateful to meet you too. Please, have a seat.”
Jerrem Denar entered the dining hall shortly after.
“Princess, I am so very glad you are alright. I was so worried for your well-being after such a horrific event,” said Jerrem Denar as he shuffled to his seat, huffing, and groaning in his old age.
“It’s for that reason I have called us all here,” Katryna said. “I believe we need a ruling body to not only help lead House Bower and our city, but also to prepare for the road ahead until my brother has awoken and is capable of ruling, that is.”
Katryna made sure to make her true intent known. She did not want to take her brother’s rightful place upon the throne; she had no such interest and felt warmly about Finn’s
