King's Woltwork's chest puffed, his cheeks reddened, and his dark blue eyes widened with rage. Silence wedged its way into the study like a shiv burrowing into the Bolton's neck.
A thick bead of sweat slipped down from Bolton's eyebrow and onto his lap. He watched as it dripped down his nose, around his lip. and finally onto his lap; counting down as his heart raced. "I can't tell the truth. He's punished people for less. I can't tell em' that he's gotten rounder, or that his gold crown is too small for his head, or that he looks aged cheese." Pondered Bolton.
"How do I look? It's a simple question, really Bolton?" Provoked King Woltwork with a crooked smile. King Woltwork sat up for a moment and rested his cheek onto his right knuckle.
King Woltwork observed Bolton with aroused suspicion. He took special care not to break eye contact with him. Despite the silence, he noted how every second was a push and a prod further into Bolton's psyche.
Finally, after what felt to Bolton like an eternity, the silence was shattered by a single bellowing laughter from the King.
"Well… honesty is a trait the Woltwork's could work a little harder on! Thirty years and this sickness has me wobbling into my last years." Laughed King Woltwork loudly, his large nostrils flaring for air between every laugh. "Lookin like it too." Chuckled King Woltwork, staring at his reflection from an old jar resting atop a pile of signed paperwork.
"Michael I-" Tried saying Bolton.
"What happened to King Woltwork? I'm still here, right? Still King. Got maybe a month? Maybe two left in me." Interrupted King Woltwork. His reminiscent gaze now shifted towards Bolton. "If you're here to plead some pathetic case then walk back and tell Galvin to cuff you on the way out. I won't waste another minute to a bleedin' heart." Continued King Woltwork.
"Bloody Blessed."Muttered Bolton with a heavied sigh. "I'm not here for politics King Woltwork." Added Bolton to King Woltwork's delight. "Should I have pounded more pints before doing this? At least he's laughing." Wondered Bolton. His facial expression stuck somewhere between a smile and a pout.
"Then what's so important that you must interrupt me on a day prior to the Succession Nomination? Must I remind you there is nothing you can do or say to influence my decision? A decision that has long been made. '' Continued King Woltwork after winding down from a fit of relentless laughter.
"Brother I-" Tried saying, Bolton.
"Or did you all of a sudden grow the stones to want to become royalty?" Interrupted King Woltwork yet again with a paralyzing gaze similar to that of Galvin's. "Is that why you've come to interrupt me?" He leaned in. "Your nightly escapades into town didn't serve you too well and now you're here to don your imagined birthright? Or are you abandoning that life too?" Snapped King Woltwork. His somewhat relaxed composure becomes more rigid with every word.
"I'm going to make a journey brother." Admitted Bolton with sudden conviction. "Somewhere far far away. I figured I'd give you somethin' before I left. Somethin' to remember your time on the throne and somethin' for whoever's next. I know we haven't had the-" Explained Bolton.
"Is this really you brother? You turn twenty-four years of age and life far away somehow reveals itself meaning. The man who's got kicked out of more rooms than a stubborn mouse in a kitchen wants to give me a gift? And I, like a chicken in the rain, will have to expect you've gotten this gift through legitimate means and simply receive it." Continued King Woltwork.
"Where are you gettin' at?" Retaliated Bolton before taking a deep breath and apologizing just as quickly as he spoke.
Bolton couldn't help but furrow his eyebrows at the sound of his brother's belittling undertone. However, his outburst appeared to go unnoticed as King Woltwork simply refocused his attention on some notes laid out before him.
"Oh yes. I've heard of all your misadventures while you were missing. How long was the last time? A Woltwork missin' from the public eye for six years! And to be found in a drunkard's fightin' ring no less." Countered King Woltwork.
"Can't say I didn't win that fight at least." Mouthed Bolton with a light whisper.
"Don't worry though, Galvin nor the Primarian Arc spare me no detail." Noted King Woltwork, his fingers weaving between the corners of seemingly endless paperwork scattered about his desk.
"I hope you heard of some of the not-so-terrible things I've done too." Blurted Bolton with an audible struggle.
"Must have gone over my head. Too much paperwork from the council and the public. Cheeky bastard." Threatened King Woltwork.
King Woltwork took a long cautious look at Bolton. He went through a hundred different conversations in his head over the course of the next couple of seconds in an effort to try and understand Bolton; however, his thoughts gradually began to fall somewhere darker.
In the boiling silence, King Woltwork observed how Bolton's suit had been torn. He observed his newest scar; carved from the corner of his mouth to his jaw. He even observed how much dirt his black boots trailed onto the carpet from the entrance.
"Not terrible things!? Bolten!" Snapped King Woltowork. "You think yourself an owner of this place! Of New Dwarden!? No one else would dare seek an audience with me dressed like an abandoned candy wrapper!" Shouted King Woltwork in disgust.
Bolton bit his lips in embarrassment; not from King Woltwork's comments but for how much his body shook after each and every word that came from King Woltwork's lips.
"I know whatever kind of head that remains on your shoulders understands what DO NOT DISTURB entails! My love -my mercy- extends to you by looking away every time you've been taken in by the tail between your legs. And those were many many times! I chose to not give rancid shit of the stink you've left behind in the city and more importantly to our name!" Ranted King Woltwork.
Bolton had enough of having his emotions whipped around like loose fruit on a bumpy carriage. Between King's Woltwork's seemingly patronizing demeanor, laughter, and now rage, Bolton mustered the self-control to simply grab the blue gem from his dangling vest pocket and present it in one fluid motion.
"By the blessed Bolton! Where did you go about procuring this?" Inquired King Woltwork with immediate urgency; as if previous conversations had never occurred.
"Our history be damned. I had good food today. Good drink. And well, all family, memories good or bad, need a way to be remembered." Added Bolton like water atop a raging flame.
King Woltwork's tempest of emotions gave way to simple wonder. His blue eyes sparkled back at the blue gem like a freshly minted mirror. Noticing this, Bolton simply reached his hands over to the Kings, gesturing him to open his hands and then plopping the gem safely into the King's firm grasp.
"I likely will not be coming back. It is a choice I've come to terms with some time ago." Explained Bolton devoid of King Woltwork's attention.
"Do you remember father telling us of the ring he had once given mother as a gift to commemorate their marriage? Green. Forest Green with a swirling pattern. Like the most expensive marble you'll ever see. A fantastical world inside a sphere." Recounted King Woltwork. His attention began to drift away into his memories.
"I was too young to remember anythin' before Mother's passing." Reminded Bolton.
A familiar silence wedged itself between Bolton and King Woltwork once again. Only this time, both appeared lost in conversation, wondering what to say next.
"A Soulstone. He described it. So beautiful a spirit must live inside. A guardian spirit indebted to protect our mother. Didn't work did it?" Muttered King Woltwork.
"What did this cost you?" Asked King Woltwork as if snapping back into reality.
"Cost me an arm and a leg. Truly." Replied Bolton. Bolton realized the King - like Galvin- had quickly become fixated on the gem as if it had hypnotic properties. He even attempted to stand from the stool to see if the King would notice and to his surprise he did not - at least not until he screeched the stool on the wooden planks below.
"And this is mine?" Asked King Woltwork.
"I'm giving it to you, yes." Responded Bolton.
"By the Blessed, you are a late blossom!" Boasted King Woltwork loudly.
"Six years younger and you look to me like I'm an eternity below you." Remarked Bolton somewhere between confusion and aggravation.
"It is when you are a King. Similar to how a minute weighs to a second." Commented King Woltwork.
King Woltwork's eyes continued to sparkle under the brilliance of the gem. His long decorated and prized purple cloak appeared insignificant in comparison to the attention the gem commanded.
"You must understand that time continues to move- no matter the expense of your gift or any for that matter. Continue to make your exit Bolton Woltwork. Begin your journey. However this gift of yours will not go unnoticed." Reassured King Woltwork.
"Is he showing me appreciation?" Thought Bolton in visible disbelief.
"Either way, as of today, there is a death in the family. Now grab one of the council's cloaks and get out of my study. You will tell no one of your whereabouts or your connection to me. You will simply disappear again. Do whatever it is you intend to make the purpose of your life and leave mine." Commanded King Woltwork.
Bolton agreed and nodded in approval. Between the celebration below, his fight with Galvin, and the pressure of simply being an audience to the King, Bolton had almost forgotten that merely hours ago he had survived in what he could only describe as the scrap of his life and all for a gem given to him by a mysterious elderly woman going only by the name of Witch Copper. "This gem's gotta be worth it." Reassured Bolton with every step towards the exit.
Bolton could recall the smell of her shop - a scent of earthy lavender mixed in with the humid steam bursting from the large man-sized orange metallic pipes tucked under the bottom of a housing complex, and of course the scent of stale water from the many divots between the bricked roads and alleyways- all as if he was still browsing inside of it.
The Witch Copper resided in a small shop tucked away deep in the fourth quadrant of New Dwarden. Bolton wasn't a stranger to alleyways and small businesses. He relished the idea of finding strange heirlooms and exotic foods at the many stalls that lined the city. Moreso, the excitement of royalty stepping away from the center of New Dwarden and into the outskirts was enough to fuel further adventuring. Bolton's idea of adventure was simply walking in the opposite direction of royalty and as he made his way to exit the King's Study he remained proud doing just that.
Bolton could feel King Woltwork leering at him from afar but he couldn't care less. To Bolton, the giant double doors before him was a freedom he had earned and after grabbing a loose green cloak hanging to the right of them there was no going back."Last night in this ol' place. Twenty-four years too long. To hell with the Primarian Royale. This building and all of its thirteen floors can burn." Thought Bolton.