Chapter 11
Theron
Theron surveyed his courtiers. Clearly, there were far too many who didn’t know what to make of him. Should have worn the proper crown today. Sartorial missteps aside, he needed to put to bed every last doubt about who he was and where they belonged.
“I have heard that spurious rumours have cropped up in my absence. You may now petition me for forgiveness. Whether I grant it or not will depend on how well you supported Batea.”
Batea was the first to kneel before him.
“I beg for your forgiveness, Your Majesty. I believed you had been soul-swapped, and in my error, led the nobles of Altanus astray. Please do not punish them for my mistake.”
“My dear cousin, you were the first to kiss my ring. You are forgiven. Take my sword and stand at my side as my most trusted sword bearer once more.” Theron removed his sword from his belt and handed it to Batea, who took it and stood behind his throne.
With that, he reclaimed the vicious military beasts of Aureum.
Polydorus was next to prostrate himself at Theron’s feet.
“I beg for your forgiveness, Your Majesty. I succumbed to rumours and hearsay, halting all outgoing messages in my ignorance. I don’t deserve the life you have gifted me.”
“Polydorus, you were the second to kiss my ring and beg forgiveness. You are forgiven. Stand at my side as my trusted cup bearer.”
Polydorus stood on the opposite side of his throne, a few steps behind his seat, the better to whisper in his ear.
The army of bureaucrats who oversaw the running of his kingdom was now Theron’s.
General Canthus knelt before the throne.
“I beg your forgiveness, Your Majesty. In my foolishness, I believed vicious lies about you and allowed soldiers to march against you. I deserve death.”
“You were the third to kiss my ring, General Canthus. You are forgiven. Take my shield and stand at my side as my trusted shield bearer.”
Never one to let an opportunity for showmanship go to waste, he took the ancient artefact and enlarged it for the gathered crowd.
Many gasped. It was both a treasure and a marvel, and now it would help to re-establish his place here.
For who else but a king could wield an ancient artefact as if it were his due?
Canthus took the shield with awe and stood beside the throne.
The soldiers of Aureum were now once again under Theron’s sole command.
Lastly, Commander Nireus knelt.
“Forgive me, Your Majesty. In my absence from Altanus, the royal guard have lost their way, falling victim to baseless rumours. Please take my head as punishment.”
“Commander Nireus, you risked life and limb to serve me while I travelled in Viridis. Vow your loyalty here and kiss my ring, and I will forgive you.”
Nireus obliged.
“Now take your place as my spear bearer at my side,” Theron commanded.
The gasps this time were even greater when he revealed the second artefact he’d obtained—the spear.
Yes, let them stare in awe, for their king had returned alive and whole, his divine curse lifted, and in possession of not one but two priceless weapons.
Obtaining even a single artefact of such quality in one’s lifetime was considered a feat for a monarch.
Theron would go down in history as the man who had seized two.
Nireus accepted the spear and stood beside the throne, artefact in hand.
With that, the palace guard were his once more.
Now to see if his courtiers would follow suit.
Lord Eumedes was the first to step forward.
He was a generally quarrelsome courtier of middling height, solidly built with greying black hair, deeply tanned skin, sharp blue eyes, and always testing Theron’s limits.
Eumedes was also of the opinion that the only good Viridian was a dead Viridian.
While Theron shared the sentiment, Eumedes was often the loudest in demanding Theron go to war against the neighbouring queendom.
Even during a cycle of chaos, he’d not quieted his demands.
That he had sons and daughters hungry for the kind of glory that only a war could bestow and copper mines that would greatly benefit him in the event of war was not lost on Theron.
“Your Majesty, we have heard that the Queen of Viridis possesses the wild magic of soul-swapping. It is no secret that she holds the deepest of grudges against the glorious kingdom of Aureum, and a monarch like her, with neither scruples nor honour, is capable of many a despicable deed. If you would put our hearts and minds at ease with a simple demonstration of your magic, we would be most grateful.”
They wanted to force him into making a spectacle of himself.
To dance to their whims. Theron held back his grimace.
It seemed the nobles had grown bold in his absence.
Canthus had made mention that they’d sent Batea across the kingdom like a hound after the scent of dualists.
Well, if it were spectacle they wished for, he would give them what they desired and make certain they knew who it was they were never meant to question.
“Would you be most grateful?” Theron asked, his tone tolerant.
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“Then step forward, all who would be most grateful if I would but prove myself in possession of the ancient magics bestowed upon me by the heart of Aureum.”
A few stepped forward. Fools, the lot of them. The more intelligent of his people watched and waited. At least they had the sense to fear him—to know that pushing a king was unwise.
Theron called upon his wild magic, allowing it to manifest in the way only a monarch of Aureum could.
The air in the throne room shimmered, as if the whole space rained gold dust. Many stared in awe.
He rarely bothered to manifest his magic like this unless it was to impress the common folk he healed.
They, at least, knew their place. His nobles, on the other hand, were constantly testing him.
Time to make it clear he would no longer tolerate their insolence.
Theron filled the foolish nobles who had dared step forward with his magic and broke them.
Bones cracked, brutal gashes opened on their flesh, burns bubbled up across their skin, the trauma of childbirth was revisited, and their cries filled the throne room.
He stopped short of killing any of them…
for now. Theron watched impassively as they cradled their wounds and failed to regain their composure.
He stood from his throne and held out his hand.
Batea handed him his sword. Each step towards the insolent courtiers was calculated to instil fear.
He pointed the tip at Lord Eumedes’ chin.
“You dare insult me in my throne room, Lord Eumedes. You dare imply that I am so weak as to fall prey to a woman like Queen Flora. Then you have the gall to demand proof of my power after my most loyal people have kissed my ring and even now stand behind me. I cannot help but assume you are either a traitor or a great fool. So, which is it?”
Really, he should thank the blustering fool for allowing Theron to make an example of him.
Now, should he kill the man or show the kind of mercy that would make people pity him?
It had been some time since he’d been forced to slay a courtier in the throne room, nearly a decade now.
These days he preferred a subtler approach.
While there was nothing quite like an execution to show he meant business, Eumedes was a staunch ally when it came to keeping Viridians out of Aureum.
“A f-fool, Your Majesty. I am a great fool. Please, I beg your forgiveness.”
He could always kill the man later, he supposed. And having Eumedes on his best behaviour for the next little while might be worth tolerating the disrespect he’d just shown, especially with his wife soon to arrive.
“And the rest of you? Traitors or fools?” Theron asked the other nobles on their knees before him.
One by one, they all answered “fool.” Perhaps there was some hope for them after all. But even so, if he spared their lives, he needed to ensure no one else had the temerity to openly call his soul into question. And the best way to ensure that? Take some hostages.
“You are banished from court for the next season. In your stead, every one of you will send your heirs to the palace. Their conduct here will determine if your bloodlines are worth keeping alive. They will serve in whatever roles I deem fit until I am certain that you are indeed mere fools. Let us hope, for their sakes, they prove wiser and more respectful than their sires.”
“You are a wise and merciful king. Triad bless the sun of Aureum,” Eumedes replied as he paled.
“Send your heirs to the palace before you leave Altanus for your lands. Now go. You are fouling my throne room with your blood.”
As palace guards hauled up the nobles and led them from the throne room, the crowd parted to reveal Aurora, the Viridian nobles, and her soldiers.
A part of him was surprised she’d come to the throne room, the other was busy beating back dread.
He shouldn’t allow her entry. Not today.
Not when he couldn’t predict exactly what she would do.
She’d had several hours to strategize with Leukos and Orithyia.
Small mercy then that the high priestess wasn’t with her, though it was the only one granted to him.
Aurora waited at the entrance to his throne room, her expression cold and closed, her gaze never once meeting the curious stares of his courtiers.
It was a great risk to allow her inside, but now that his courtiers had noticed her, he might look weak or churlish if he barred her entry.
Theron waved at his guards to allow her and her entourage to walk into his throne room.
The repercussions of refusing her would be too great.
“Make way for Her Highness, Princess Aurora of Viridis, daughter of Queen Flora and wife of King Theron,” Leukos announced as he pushed courtiers aside and made a path for Aurora.
Aurora walked up to Theron and knelt.