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[img]http://i.imgur.com/y8rHZAa.jpg?1[/img]

[b]Throne Room,[/b]
[b]The City of Amaryth[/b] [/center]

“And father, you are sure?” The prince knelt before his father, doing so cautiously, in the way that one would when they question a king, something the prince did with much more frequency than any of the nobles. It had ever been the duty of the Crown Prince to question the king, for everyone knows even a king has flaws.

“It is time and the people have called for it. Do not worry of the preparations, for they have already been made. Figuring out how a coronation ceremony is supposed to be done shall not be your first act as king, as mine was.” The king spoke with clear concern and worry for his eldest son. “Your grandfather held on to the throne well past the time his war wounds crippled him in body and mind. I will not do the same to you.” The Order that had him in shambles did not so easily manipulate the prince, and King Hrodlaf’s dwindling health could only be hidden for so long.

“Father I don’t know what to say,” Prince Aral stuttered. “In my mind I had always believed you would rule to your grave but…” The king waved his hand.

“You and I both know well why this is happening.” He stepped down from his throne with some difficulty, urging his son to stand.

“But what of the Idrissi? Do they approve of the idea?” The prince could not be clearer with his tone. The Order of Idris, to him, should have little influence in the matter of nobility. Yet he asked for his father’s sake, his father who had quickly bowed to the Order in fear of the danger for his life presented by the mystical and oft-feared Evokers.

“The Holy Order…Had some concerns. But I felt I addressed them properly. They will not prevent your ascension to the Throne.” Hrodlaf smiled meekly at his son. The prince nodded as he stood. He wished to believe this was the kings act of defiance, that his father had understood at last just how brutal the Order really was and wished for his son to correct his mistakes. But he could not be sure.

“Father… But what if-?”

“The people will follow you.” The king interrupted him, laying his hand on Arals shoulder. It was one of those rare moments of connection between Hrodlaf and his son, moments that the king wished he had more of in his life. One of his greatest regrets. “If I am sure of anything, it is that the peoples have put their trust in you. I remember, from the first day they laid their eyes upon you, the people have always loved you.” He smiled, nodding quietly.

After seemingly being lost in thoughts for a moment, the king nodded to himself for a second time and resumed talking. 

“We will let our people know after the festival. Come, walk with me my son.” The king relied heavily on Prince Aral and his cane to support him as they walked. “Those… [i]they[/i] have eyes and ears everywhere, let us take a stroll in the gardens.” 

Involuntarily, the prince looked around him. The throne room was completely empty, save for some guards and a little girl who was polishing the floors. For a moment, the prince felt empathy for the girl, having to scrub the enormous throne room all by herself. It would take her hours, no doubt. He wondered whether his father was becoming fully paranoid, as he had heard some nobles whisper, or if the king was right to suspect even this small amount of people. Aral knew the two guards stationed near the doors leading outside by name, and he greeted the two with a smile and a nod as he and his father passed. 

They finished climbing down the the stairs, which guided them straight into the palace’s luscious gardens, with some effort. The king’s health appeared to be worsening with the day and they took a moment to sit down on a bench, which was carefully crafted out of a fine piece of marble. The two took a few moments to enjoy the view of the colours of a spring morning that had painted the garden in a lovely shade, allowing the elder one to regain his breath. The morning air was still slightly cold after yesterday’s rain, but the cloudless sky foretold that this would become a sunny, rainless day in spring. The sounds of a city just waking up,were carried towards the palace on a gust of wind. Hammer on anvils, the tuning of instruments, a woman scolding her children, a barking dog, merchants glorifying their wares despite the early hour...The capitol of Othea was busy as always, especially with the upcoming festival.
 After what seemed like a small eternity, Aral gathered the courage to ask a question which had occupied his thoughts for a long time. 

“Father.. How can you rule them if you don’t trust them? If you don’t know them?”

Only the slight tightening of his jaw, showed the king’s surprise and faint displeasure, a small sign most would not have noticed. His eldest son, however, knew him well enough to notice. 

“Forgive me father, I did not mean to offen..” But before he could finish the sentence, the king brushed his excuses aside with a curt movement of his hand.

“Do not apologize when inquiring for truth, Aral. If you truly wish to be answered, you must stand firm and believe you have the right to be obeyed. After all, your wishes will be the only truth, as you will soon be king.” In the light of the king’s own submission to Idris, the words sounded hollow to Aral, but he nodded nonetheless. It was painstakingly clear that the king had avoided his question, but the young prince let it rest, too afraid to hear the answer he suspected. The old king sighed and Aral saw how his eyes were filled with regret as their eyes met. 

“I should have taught you so much more… If only we had time...” His watery eyes lost their focus and the king hummed softly for a while before his humming turned into a coughing fit. Hrodalf lifted his arm to stop Aral from calling the servants, muttering that he was fine, although his bloodied fingers told a different story. Arals eyes widened and a soft, wry smile formed on the Hrodalf’s face. With as much dignity as he could muster, the king stood tall and spoke with a hint of bitterness and regret, almost hidden under the air of authority.

“Perhaps the second day of the festival will be a better time to announce your coronation. Come, my son, let us greet the people and open the festival in a way that befits the king and heir of the House Otharion.”