Chereads / Your Majesty, the King / Chapter 157 - Chapter 154: One Month of War

Chapter 157 - Chapter 154: One Month of War

Apologies in advance for any spelling errors. Skidding in on this deadline...

_____________________________________

Chapter 154:

One Month of War

"I never thought this day would come." A figure sat, reading a long-lettered parchment in the darkened room, using the dim light of the candle to read the full scrawl filling the page with information. Her eyes were full of fatigue, but the letter in her hand brought her some joy, making her happy to have been awoken with the information as she sat, shrouded in her long, draping robe. "It's finally happening."

"I can't believe it happened so fast." A second figure spoke, their clothing similarly informal, as if they had just been awoken from a well-needed rest. "Were they able to find Malcolm?"

"Not yet. Apparently another team was sent to find him, an elven team." Eva laughed quietly, her smile bright. "There's no telling what they'll do to him once he's found. For now, the king's seat will have to sit empty."

The room grew quiet, filled only with the sound of paper shuffling. Thinking for a moment, the second woman, Countess Zavior, spoke.

"Until a peaceful resolution is made regarding who will rule, I have a proposition to make." Camille said, sitting forward at the war table, countless letters in front of her. The candle near her was nearly close to burning out, having been used numerous hours over the past few weeks, nearly reaching the end of its wick. "However, I'm not sure you'll agree to it."

Full of interest, Eva adjusted the collar of her nightgown as she asked, "What is it?"

As if anticipating a negative response, Camille rested her hands in front of her on the table, her fingers crossed as she finally spoke, "I think, once Malcolm has been removed from the throne, it would be beneficial to us to reinstate Clarence on the throne-"

"Camille, you must be joking. After all the effort we have made to remove the royal family, to avenge those who have been lost due to this war-" Eva spoke heatedly, her words full of calm on the surface. "Unless you mean-"

"You didn't let me finish." Camille added, her fatigue apparent. "The people, the nobles especially, are deeply entrenched in the current royal family. Instating a rebel leader to rule will ruin what little trust the people have in the kingdom. The past royal family was loved by nobles and commoners, for the most part. You know where Clarence is, I don't have to ask that." Camille said, rubbing the corner of her eyes with a yawn. "He's with Silas and Maeir."

"Ah." Eva's expression was placid, her thoughts swirling in her tired mind before she said, tapping the table with her fingers lightly. "I think I understand what you're saying Camille. That is not a bad idea. Not at all."

It's obvious how Clarence feels about Silas. Using Silas as leverage to place Clarence back on the throne as a powerless figure would be easy… But, getting around Maeir will be difficult. We'll have to tread carefully. Eva thought to herself as she stood from the table, stepping around her chair as Camille sipped at her cold glass of coffee, her eyes dark. 

"Why don't you go back to sleep? Nothing will start until morning comes." Eva motioned to the window with her hand, the open curtains exposing the moonlight in the dim room. "That's when the fun will begin."

"At least one of us is getting some sleep tonight." Camille snorted into her coffee. "What are your plans for getting the prince to the palace alive?" 

"I have just the person to go get them. Once we find them, bringing them back safely will be easy." Eva responded with a tired laugh, stepping through the doorway as she said, "I'll see you in the morning then, Camille. Goodnight."

"Goodnight." Camille responded tiredly, moving stacks of documents as she stared at the closed door, rubbing the growing wrinkles in her brow as she sighed again, smacking a stack of documents to the side as she stared at the map sprawled out on the table, full of new marks in red ink. The Yursinean palace was circled directly, a small flag drawn next to the palace, marking the most precious victory for the rebels. 

… 

"There they are. You're late. How did you two sleep?" Maeir stood at the table, helping the children scoop porridge into their clay bowls as Silas and Clarence walked into the old man's home together, keeping their heads low to avoid the wandering eyes of the villagers, who had yet to see them. 

Vivy, staring at Silas and Clarence, felt her ears grow red, and the lingering glance she held between the two boys carried a weight that brought an uncomfortable awkwardness to the adults in the room, as if a clandestine love affair had been exposed for all to see. Queen Racliffe said nothing, but her displeasure was written across her face, noted by her deep frown.

With a nod, Silas walked ahead of Clarence, his expression flat. "We slept fine." He affirmed, staring at Maeir with tired eyes, "I apologize for scaring you this morning, Vivy." Bowing his head, Silas apologized to the young girl with a trace of embarrassment. "I'm sure you weren't expecting guests in the loft."

With an awkward laugh, Vivy could only respond, "O-of course!"

"Sorry, I should have worn my shi-" Feeling the heat of Silas's gaze on his back, Clarence's mouth was forced shut, but he could not hide the slim glimmer of laughter dancing in his eyes as he followed Silas around the table, joining the rowdy group for breakfast. 

Once the dishes were eaten, Vivy and Niran washed the plates together as the old man led the other group of guests around the village, introducing Ecaterina and her children as distant relatives, and Silas and Maeir as their companions. There were no other elves in the immediate village, but the villagers' behavior towards Silas and Maeir was surprisingly warm, nearly causing them to feel uncomfortable due to the change in attitude from their past travels. 

Some of the younger village girls took a liking to Silas and Clarence, however Clarence's chilly attitude towards anyone but Silas made it impossible for them to get a word in, causing them to fall back. When they approached Silas, Clarence was far more protective, nearly latching onto him like a petulant child, causing Silas far more grief than he was prepared to deal with.

"You latch onto me one more time, I'll sic my mother on you." Silas finally uttered, his brow twitching with aggravation as Clarence glared at two young girls, who had tried and failed to approach them as they met the rest of the villagers. 

Clarence, loosening his grip on Silas's arm, lowered his head lightly. "But they keep trying to sweet talk you."

Silas sighed. "If I wanted to be sweet talked, I'd stand around you all day. Come on, the old man still wants us to meet more villagers." Hearing such sweet words from Silas, Clarence could not help but blush, following around Silas with a short distance between them, chattering on about non-important topics as he pleased, bringing the feeling with it as if they were not running from war. 

The group continued their greetings, feeling somewhat awkward introducing themselves to the strangers, but the old man made the rest of the journey pleasant, facilitating natural small talk with the groups like a mediator. Surprisingly, many of the villagers were older than expected, and there were very few children and young adults to be found. As they spoke to the families, it became more and more apparent where those children had gone, and why the village's atmosphere held a somber, sober atmosphere full of dimness. 

"What happened to the children in this village?" Maeir asked pensively, thinking of her own children in the Faelfier Kingdom. 

"Most of the people here have suffered loss from the war." Pausing for only a moment, the old man spoke in a slow tone. "Like Niran. My granddaughter is one of the few children that survived the rampant attacks near the capital. Not only were elves killed, but anyone suspected of helping them was murdered with them." The old man said, his wooden cane knocking against the ground with a thud as he shuffled forward, walking away from the stray homes and back to his own. "I moved here to protect her after I was forced out of the palace, and soon, more and more refugees found their way here. Most of them still live here to this day."

"How long ago?" Maeir asked again, curious to know more about the strange village.

"I believe it was twelve years ago now." The old man thought for a moment, pausing as he answered, "To think the war has continued so long. I never thought I would live to see the end of it."

How is he so confident the war will end just like that? Silas thought to himself, feeling as though even the thought of the end of the war was a distant dream. His eyes fell over Clarence, who unconsciously stared back at the other man, smiling gently as their eyes met. Nothing was said, but their gazes were soft for a moment, holding steady until they were naturally forced apart.

After touring the small village and becoming acquainted with the villagers, the old man pulled Silas, Maeir, Clarence, and the queen aside to discuss their future in the village, leaving the children to continue to play with Niran as they discussed the difficult topic of the war, well aware of their concerns staying in the remote village. The small clearing by the old man's home allowed some privacy as the group spoke, their thoughts now able to be spoken. 

"Both sides have committed countless atrocities, but forgiveness can only be given when changes are made, and the violence is ended." The old man continued, stopping at the edge of the river with his cane resting by his right foot. "I have a feeling, in a short while, we will see the end of this war, but the repercussions of this war will be long-lasting without proper leadership in the palace."

The queen fell silent as she clenched her fists, unable to speak of the state of the palace. Clarence stared towards his mother, then back towards the old man, his expression heavy. The palace is in shambles now with Malcolm. I'm not sure things could get much worse. 

"If you can, while the rebels are fighting the last of the royal family, stay here. This may seem selfish, but I want Niran to learn more about her elven heritage, and if her majesty trusts you, then I can too." The old man said with a smile, staring forwards towards Silas and Maeir with a gentle smile. "Until the rebels are successful, I would like all of you to stay here. Consider it the dying wish of an old man."

"We would be happy to stay here. Thank you so much for your hospitality." Queen Racliffe bowed her head, her appreciation evident. "We will do anything in our power to help."

The old man turned towards Silas and Maeir with an expectant smile, followed by Clarence's wordless gaze. He had yet to speak, but the weight of his gaze pulled heavily on Silas

"What about you, Silas? What do you want to do?" Maeir asked her son, having already come to a conclusion of her own. 

There was only one way for Silas to answer. "I would like to stay here."

Not more was said before one of the other villagers called for the old man, waving him towards one of the homes with a worried frown. "Please rest up. We'll discuss future arrangements later." The old man ended the conversation with a smile, pleased to have the group to help around the village. "Until then." He hurried away, moving as fast as his cane would allow as he assisted the woman. 

As the group separated, having finally agreed to the old man's offer, Silas and Clarence stood together, not speaking at the moment. It was not until Clarence spoke first, breaking the thin ice between them. "If you said you would leave, I would have left too."

"What do you mean?" Silas asked, his thoughts stirred. 

Reaching out, Clarence held the tips of Silas's fingers in his hands, "You're important to me, Silas."

The pair fell silent, wrapped in the moment as neither spoke. The touch between them, though minimal, carried an intimate heat that made them both pause, unable to do anything else but savor the other's touch before it was quickly withdrawn by Silas, who looked as though he had been burned. 

Though, as he walked away, the flash of red on the tip of his ears was enough to give him away. With a laugh, Clarence quickly followed, pursuing with a jump in his step as he followed along with Silas, who refused to look in his direction, still embarrassed. 

… 

Nearly a month had passed quietly in the small village before any word had arrived regarding the state of the war. Maeir made the journey and had sent a letter addressed to one of Camille's informants, another one of Eva's legmen that would forward their whereabouts to her, allowing them to keep informed as much as they could, now removed from the rebellion. She also sent two letters from herself and Silas to the twins, ensuring they were aware of their safety after the long lapse in contact. 

In the peaceful atmosphere, the group almost forgot the lingering anxiety and the horrors of the war that had not yet refound the peaceful town. The children experienced a life they had never known, bringing them a sense of casualness and routine that made them crave the life of those they had once commanded.

The prince, however, enjoyed the town far more due to his companion at his side. Wherever Silas was, Clarence was not far behind. Like a puppy, the townspeople had grown used to the prince glued to the elf's side, so much so that the young girls in the town, while mourning their potential marriage options, enjoyed teasing the young man who was too far in love to function.

Even Silas, as cool as he behaved, found himself enjoying the companionship. He had grown used to the calloused, warm hands of the prince as they trailed down his arm, holding his hand in a natural fashion as their fingers looped together like strings of thread. 

When he was married to Emmeline, he often would express his affection physically, from hugs, gentle kisses, holding hands, and other intimate actions. The more he was around the prince, the more their skin touched, their arms holding the other each night, it made Silas's heart ache in yearning. 

I can never express these feelings. I can't. Silas thought often, his head tucked into the prince's chest in a natural fashion, as they had done numerous times before. Laying in the same hay bed each night, the warm arms that held him felt natural, so much so that he felt uncomfortable without them. I'm scared what will happen if I let myself fall like this. 

Unconsciously, he had found himself craving that same type of intimacy once again. This time, however, these feelings were held for the prince, Clarence, the man he had tried to kill, and the man who had tried to kill him numerous times. He could not easily forget their past, Clarence's possessive tendencies, nor could he forget how the royal family viewed him. 

Hiding his feelings could only take him so far, particularly the night he had bathed downriver with Clarence two weeks after they arrived in the village. It was late in the evening, and the two men were facing away from each other, their naked bodies separated by only their backs. 

It was as if the sensations around him were intensified. Every splash of water, every step across the rocks, and every movement of Clarence's was magnified. As the drips of water from Clarence's movements sprayed across Silas's naked back, a shiver trailed down his spine, feeling as though a hand was tracing over the faint scars left after years of battle. The sensations of the water droplets falling felt like the tips of a familiar man's fingers, falling, falling further and further, nearly caressing places too intimate to imagine. 

Feeling such emotions, such excitement, when facing the prince, it made Silas hate himself. Why? Why do I feel this way about Clarence? It had been so long since he had felt these primal desires, the wish for intimacy, that it felt almost foreign, but not unfamiliar. I'm not a teen anymore. Think of something, anything, to calm down! Splashing himself over the head with the icy cold water brought the heat in his body down and cleared his mind somewhat, bringing with it the thoughts he had been running from. 

Eva had warned him in Countess Zavior's mansion that only heartache would come from falling in love with Clarence, particularly due to the prince's mother. With Eva's group in particular, there was no way to discuss the queen's presence with them, let alone the last of the Godfreed royal family traveling with them in secret. Eva had already strongly expressed her strong distaste towards Clarence, but Silas was afraid of what would happen to the queen and her children if they were found by the rebels. 

If they discovered we were hiding the royal family… we would all be killed. Silas thought in passing, standing by a tree as the fall leaves began to trail around him, drifting down as they steadily changed colors, fading from dull greens to vibrant reds, yellows, and oranges, dancing with color. Maybe it would be best if we continued to stay here a little longer. This peace, this quiet, I missed it. If only the war could end now, and we could return to this everyday. 

Silas avoided Clarence after the incident in the river, and while the prince did not understand at the time, he felt them growing closer and closer, so much so that his loving attitude was displayed in an unhidden fashion, causing even Maeir to be repulsed by his cheesiness. Ecaterina said nothing, but even Eloise thought the two were close enough to comment, angering the queen into further silence. 

It was not until the first month passed that Maeir was able to talk to her son without the prince's near-constant interruption, having sent the young man off on an errand as she approached Silas, hoping to discuss their next moves from the village without an interloper. 

For her to want to talk to me alone, this must be important. Silas thought, staring expectantly towards his mother. 

There was no thought of her son's Maeir missed. She watched Silas carefully before she spoke aloud, "We need to plan our next course of action." 

Feeling as if he knew what she would say next, Silas said, "Returning home, isn't it?"

"It's about time we packed up and moved back home, to the Faelfier Kingdom, Silas." Maeir responded, standing close to her son now that his stalker had been occupied with other tasks, allowing them some privacy at least. "The twins are anxious for us to return home. It's been so long since we were together. As much as it is peaceful here, returning home is-"

A familiar courier arrived at the small town, the man nearly falling on the rock path as Maeir's words fell, drawing them out of the conversation as the young man held a letter up, waving it towards Maeir with an excited smile. "I have mail for you, Ms. Maeir!" 

"Thank you." Maeir took the letter with two hands, stepping away from Silas only a moment to return to her son's side, holding her dagger as she tore the wax seal in half, swiftly opening the letter. 

Holding the letter addressed to the group, Maeir let out a tense sigh, ripping the letter open as she quickly scanned over the contents, reading through the tightly-written, neat scrawl with a heavy gaze. As her eyes scanned the bottom of the paper, she lowered the paper, her face falling with it as she uttered, "Dammit."

"What does it say?" Silas asked, only able to spot a few of the familiar elven words before Maeir moved the letter to the side. 

"It's Eva." Maeir began, lifting the paper with a hint of disgust as she said, "The rebels have finally taken control of the palace." She stated, reading over the contents in more detail as she reiterated what was written in the letter. "Malcolm is nowhere to be found, as expected, and the Yursinean military has surrendered the palace and the surrounding cities. It's only a matter of time before the rest of the kingdom is subdued."

"By the Gods… it's finally happened. Mom, it's finally happened!" Silas's face was full of mixed emotions: relief, joy, guilt, and sadness. As much as he wanted to articulate his thoughts, he found his words stuck in his throat, the corners of his eyes reddening as tears threatened to fall down his face. "We have to tell Clarence-"

Maeir cut Silas's words shut with her next line, extinguishing her son's excitement. "She wants us to bring Clarence to the palace."

_________________________________________

Apologies in advance for any spelling errors, including character names! And for my prolonged absence.... I was far more ill than I thought, and I made the tough decision to scale back for a few weeks to heal. Previously, I was working 13 hour days/ 7 days a week, and I can feel it in every fiber of my existence ==; My day work is too busy, so it may cause some future delays as well... Bah....

I was afraid this would have to wait another week before release, but I burned through 5 pages in the last two hours. At this point, any inconsistencies and plot errors are garbo to me. Fuck it, intimacy is king. It's time. Y'all are hot and bothered because why? Because I said so. There. 154 chapters, and while there's no kisses yet (... I think?), there's a metric ton of sexual tension. Ye'haw.

Y'all are welcome /s jkjk But thank you all for your repeated support and well wishes. I'm still tired, but pushing through. I've been entertained by the 4 mannequins I got for dirt cheap and my newly renovated closet in my studio. Hoping to be back next week. Thank you all again.