Days later, there was still no sign of Edmar. Only the furthest of the outlying settlements remained with no word from them, though Haf had sent messengers and search parties for news.
The announcement had been made that the Commodore's eldest son was no longer the presumptive heir to Cetoan leadership. Edmar was to be arrested immediately if found.
Haf had neglected to name a new heir, though of course all assumed it to be Caspian.
The revelation of Roland's parentage was kept out of open knowledge, at least until Duncan could arrive and be included in the process… which should be today.
There was still some small inkling of doubt on all sides that the story was true; perhaps it was all a coincidence. Since Roland had not wanted to make such an announcement via letter, he had simply invited his father to come for a diplomatic purpose.
Mayra and Jimmy were hard at work trying to decipher what herbs had been used in the net's oil. Though Roland was still in a state of barely-controlled rage whenever he thought about Jimmy's poultice endangering his wife and children, he had to admit the man had his uses.
His extensive knowledge of magic and herbs was a valuable asset in the quest to figure out the mystery of the other worlds and how to traverse them.
The halfling had almost nonexistent knowledge of ocean plants, and asserted that they were unreliable at best for the purposes of guiding a person between worlds.
"The trick," He had said, "is identifying places that's safe in both worlds. A nice field in one spot might be the middle of the ocean in another. Sounds like them leviathans know what's what, or can sense it, but if you want a consistent portal between places, land herbs are the best bet. Find 'em growing, stead of having to dive for 'em or wait for 'em to wash to shore."
Haf had been wary of trusting the knowledgeable mostly-human, but in the end, the utility of his experience won out over his odd mannerisms and offensive personality. Roland knew Jimmy wasn't earning any friends by intentionally mispronouncing the people as see-too-ans.
Knowing Jimmy as he did, it was likely on purpose.
His heart had softened towards the man ever so slightly when he delivered the news that "them babies are lookin' fine," and somewhat begrudgingly handed off a thick envelope that Finn had bidden the little man to deliver.
In Finn's study of herbs, her sketching of plants had become rather accomplished. It seemed that lately she had set that talent to another subject. Well, subjects.
Roland now had perfectly sketched portraits of his three babies. She had even incorporated touches of color to bring their little visages to life for him in his absence.
Lily's bright blue eyes stared up at him from the paper with an expression of surprise, reminiscent of the morning when she'd hiccupped for the first time. Her dark, feathery locks looked real enough to touch. Roen was still balder than any baby Roland had ever seen, grinning as he clutched something in his tiny fist. Were his eyes a little darker than when Roland had last seen him? Ivan's hair was apparently growing in a fiery red, judging from Finn's drawing. That was unexpected.
Not as unexpected as having three babies, however. He supposed nothing should surprise him about the three blessings now.
Silently, he closed his eyes and blessed his wife for her extreme care and thoughtfulness in sending him the precious drawings. It was clear she'd worked hard on them, and he was impressed by the renderings. It made him yearn to be home and hold his babies once more.
A signal horn announced the imminent arrival of a boat on the river, and he put the drawings away. It would be nice to see his father again. Hopefully the man could shed a little more light on his mother's origins.
It was a potentially delicate subject, as Duncan clearly had loved Roland's mother very deeply, to the point of never remarrying even now that there was no Void demanding another heir from him.
Roland was both touched by the depth of Duncan's affection, and troubled that he would definitely remain an only child, and the only heir of Rhone.
Well, aside from his own children, but he wasn't going to subject them to a task by shirking it himself. There had to be another way around all of it.
He scratched his head, knowing he would likely have to resign himself to the inevitability sooner or later. Slowly, he'd gotten used to the title of Prince in formal settings, but that didn't mean he cherished it. At least it helped that his wife was perfectly happy by his side no matter what path he chose.
Not that he truly had a choice. His own choice would be to reject it all and take up a quiet job as a doctor in a village that needed help. Away from attention, away from the expectations of an entire nation. Or two.
Or three.
This line of thought was getting him nowhere other than an extremely stressed state of mind.
He headed toward the river, trying to calm himself. He had duties. He had to put on a brave face and do his best. Diplomacy, cooperation, and hunting down a cousin he didn't know he had until a few days ago.
Everything would be fine.
Passing beyond the last few huts of the settlement, he cherished the moment alone in the open air. It was easier to breathe with no one watching him with expectations. Even though the Cetoans had no idea his grandfather had been the last Commodore, he was still a diplomat of Klain, and a prince of Rhone.
He couldn't get away from his own crushing importance.
As he arrived near the river dock, the boat was being tethered. It was slightly grander than the one he had arrived on, decked out with the trappings due a royal arrival.
Which was a bit strange, knowing how his father valued simplicity over pomp. He must be putting on a show for the Cetoans. It wasn't an unwise thing, necessarily. No one expected a reigning monarch to arrive in poverty.
Even one whose people had been decimated in a war they'd been tricked into starting.
As the mooring was completed, King Duncan stepped off the boat, dressed rather finely in the formal black attire of the Rhone. After all, Roland had said it was a diplomatic visit. His father apparently wanted to make a nice impression.
Roland moved forward, and seeing that his son had arrived to greet him first, Duncan hugged him instead of receiving a formal bow.
"Son, have things been difficult? Your reports are so dry and factual. I would know nothing of your personal experiences without visiting my grandchildren and chatting with your lovely wife."
Roland grinned, "Aren't military and diplomatic reports meant to be dry and factual? And I send you personal letters as well. Do not pretend I am shirking my duties in that respect."
"Ah, I suppose not. But your request for a visit concerned me somewhat. Is there trouble here? Serafina practically begged me to bring her along, but I could not do so in good conscience since I did not know what danger might be awaiting my attention." He looked around as if it might jump out from behind a tree.
"There is no danger I have not already revealed in the reports. Rather, there is some news of a more personal nature that I thought better to discuss in person than by letter." He hesitated. Should he break the news quickly before Haf and Caspian arrived to greet Duncan? They would be here any moment.
"Personal news? I'm flummoxed. You are not visibly injured, and I know you haven't fallen in love with someone new."
Roland shook his head. "No, nothing like that. Nothing new, per se. Rather, I've discovered something old, I suppose."
"You're too mysterious, Son. Just spit it out." Duncan straightened as the reception committee made up of the Commodore and his family neared. They were also dressed finely, to honor the importance of their guest.
"First, let me introduce you." Roland took a step back and raised his voice slightly in a more formal tone. "Commodore Haf of the Cetoans, King Duncan of Rhone. Cora, the Commodore's wife, and Caspian, their second son."
The two rulers exchanged nods of deference while Cora curtsied and Caspian gave a short bow. No one had ironed out exactly the protocols involved, but everyone seemed satisfied by the choices made.
"Haf," Duncan said, musing to himself. "We can't have met before, but somehow you are a little familiar to me."
"I have been told I resemble my sisters." Haf looked at Roland with questioning eyes, clearly wondering whether the news had been broken yet.
"Sisters? Hm. What would their names be? Surely I can't have met them." Duncan seemed confused by the exchange.
Haf paused before taking a deep breath.
"Songslet and Liberty."