《The Storm King》372 - The Support of Your House
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August led Leon and the rest of his entourage back to his office, chatting with Roland the entire way. Leon did his best to pay attention to what they were saying, but the combination of knowing that they were in public and likely weren’t going to talk to each other about anything of note and the veritable interrogation he’d just gone through weighed on his mind too much for him to pay too much attention.
Upon arriving at August’s office, the Prince turned to Leon and asked, “We have some business to wrap up, could you wait outside for me?”
“Of course, Your Highness,” Leon said with a quick bow, and he took a seat in one of the chairs by the door of the office.
August, Roland, and the rest of the group proceeded into the Prince’s office, leaving Leon relatively alone. There were still plenty of secretaries and assistants working at desks in the room outside of August’s office, but none were paying much attention to Leon. Still, after all of those questions, Leon craved some solitude to process everything and to figure out what to do next. He briefly considered getting that solitude by retreating into his soul realm until August sent for him, but he decided against it, preferring to stay alert while he remained in the palace.
He didn’t know where the Earthshaker Paladin was, after all, and if the man was bold enough to kill Trajan, then Leon couldn’t expect safety anywhere except his own home and the Heaven’s Eye Tower. But his immediate concern wasn’t Earthshaker, it was Lucius.
He was asked questions about Tiberias. His competency as a knight was questioned. Lucius had even insinuated that he had sympathies with Hakon Fire-Beard’s Valemen and that he might have been somehow involved in the raid they launched on Fort 127.
If he were honest, those last two points were simply infuriating. They made him want to perform some impromptu dental surgery on Lucius with his fists, preferably with his gauntlets on, but those questions didn’t worry him. Rather, it was the questions regarding Tiberias that truly unsettled Leon, for that was the one thing that he was both guilty of and able to be punished for.
Leon was so disturbed by the prospect of the investigation being reopened, even though he didn’t think much would come of it—especially with Naiad gone—that he barely even thought about August and why the Prince had led him back to his office until the door opened again about fifteen minutes later and people started filing out. A few moments later, Roland followed them out, leaving the office devoid of people save for August.
“Sir Ursus,” Roland said as he approached Leon.
Leon glanced up, giving Roland nothing more than a slight nod as a greeting.
The Paladin didn’t take any offense, and said, “It’s good to see you again. I was actually hoping to catch up with you for a few minutes.”
With his mind still elsewhere, Leon offered little more than a second nod of his head for Roland to continue.
“How are you holding up?” Roland asked he sat down next to the younger man. “This whole incident with Trajan has screwed up so much, and I know that you and he were fairly close…”
“I’m fine,” Leon said, finally breaking his silence.
Roland gave Leon a bitter smile and a head nod of his own as if he knew Leon was lying and was letting him save face. That Leon seemed even more dour and emotionless than usual only reinforced Roland’s belief that Leon was simply putting on a brave face.
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In truth, while Trajan’s death had hit Leon hard, the young knight was already making his peace with it. Lucius was the reason for his current poor mood, but Leon banished thoughts of the ‘interview’ he’d just sat through for the moment as he finally began to switch gears to the matter at hand.
“What business might His Highness have with me?” Leon asked Roland, hoping the Paladin would give him a straight answer.
“I’m not entirely sure, but there are a couple of reasons,” Roland said, averting his eyes from Leon as he thought about what to say.
“You don’t know? You’re one of Prince August’s most trusted and powerful companions and you don’t know?” Leon whispered in a tone that was, while not loud, both angry and disbelieving. “Are you sure you’re not just trying to avoid the question for the benefit of anyone listening in?”
“There is such a thing as subtlety, Sir Leon,” Roland replied with a rolling of his eyes. “These are dark times if a Prince is able to be assassinated in the streets. Makes it hard to trust people, and we’re all just trying to scramble and find our new footing. By the way, I think His Highness will see you, now.”
Leon glanced away from Roland and saw Prince August standing in the doorway
‘Things must be worse for him than I thought if he’s not waiting for me inside,’ Leon thought to himself. As a Prince, August should be working in his office and forcing Leon to wait, not going to the door of his office and waiting on Leon.
With a bit of trepidation—he wasn’t entirely sure August was waiting on him and he didn’t want to embarrass either himself or the Prince in public—Leon rose from his seat and took a few hesitant steps toward the Prince. August nodded to him, and Leon’s pace grew confident as he strode into the Fourth Prince’s office.
“You’re looking well, Your Highness,” Leon observed, noting the Prince’s thicker musculature, increased stature, and slightly brighter hair. August used to be a fairly short person with little defined muscle and dull, dirty blond hair. He’d seemed so slight as to be sickly, and he was the exact opposite of the image a young, strong Prince ought to project.
Now, however, his body was densely packed with defined muscle, his aura radiated strong fifth-tier power, and his hair had brightened and seemed almost polished with how it sparkled in the light—each strand seemed almost full of life compared to the seemingly unhealthy hair color August had before.
“I’m feeling well, Sir Leon,” August said, showing Leon over to the sofas by his hearth and taking a seat. Leon waited for a second before following suit. “I truly must thank you again for your small part in my awakening, I know you could’ve said no, and yet you were there that day. That means a great deal to me.”
Leon sat and stoically stared at August. He had been at August’s awakening ceremony because of his name—his real name—and for no other reason. Still, from his own experience of being stuck at the first-tier until his blood was awakened and the power he gained after, he knew how big of a deal it was on August’s end, so he refrained from giving voice to any of the disrespectful remarks that were floating about in his head.
“I mean no disrespect, Your Highness,” Leon said, meaningfully glancing at the clock on the wall, “but I do have some business that I need to take care of back home…”
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“Of course, then let’s put away the small talk and get down to business.” August didn’t seem the slightest bit offended at Leon’s veiled rebuke and the implication he didn’t want to be around the Prince, which raised Leon’s opinion of him just a bit. He didn’t know August all that well, but if there was one good thing he could say about the Prince, it was that he was a surprisingly humble man. “You must be aware of my and my brother’s feuds, no?”
“They’re rather hard to miss,” Leon replied, the events surrounding the triumphal games flashing through his mind.
“Then it should come as no surprise that my brother’s supporters are currently rallying their forces. Hiring mercenaries, readying their knights and men-at-arms, and confirming their population rolls in case they need to levy their peasants. All told, my brother could have an army of more than a million if he were to mobilize everything he has.”
“I don’t see how much that has to do with me,” Leon replied with a look of relative disinterest that was both true and fake. He wasn’t too interested in any offers August had for him, but he was still curious about what the Prince was going to put on the table.
“Most of Octavius’ support comes from the Southern, Western, and Central Territories. Any support I’ve been able to raise has largely been confined to the Eastern Territories. The nobles of the Northern Territories are still largely undeclared, aside from a few notable exceptions like Count Whitefield and Marquis Grandison.”
Leon couldn’t suppress his scowl. He knew both of those names—the former was the man who had refused calls from Fort 127 for reinforcements during Hakon’s raid, and then got into a conflict with the Consul of the North after the raid had been put down. The latter had sent many of his knights into the Northern Territories to steal silkgrass and enslave the Valeman farmers who had been growing the material.
Suffice it to say, Leon held a great deal of antipathy towards both of them, though his enemies were numerous enough he hadn’t devoted that much attention to either.
“Sir Leon, you could help me a great deal in the Northern Territories…” August said, letting his statement hang.
“I don’t see how I can, I’m just a Valeman,” Leon said with a smile.
“Of course you are,” August said, smiling back at him. “However, if you weren’t a Valeman, I’m sure-“
“I’m just going to stop you right there, Your Highness,” Leon interrupted. “I’m a Valeman. If anyone were to claim otherwise, I would publicly deny it, and probably distance myself from the person making those claims.”
Leon was in no way tempted by August’s offer. The Prince wanted Leon’s name, he wanted the last member of House Raime to aid him in securing the Northern Territories, where House Raime was once based and where they had held an immense amount of sway. Needless to say, Leon had a lot of problems with that, most notably that it would require him to go public with his identity, and that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon. There was nothing August could offer Leon to change that, even after the grilling Leon had just gone through with Lucius.
But Leon couldn’t blame August too much for making the offer, even if that offer was infuriating. August was likely having trouble seeing past his own desperate situation, and Leon wasn’t in much of a mood to remind August of House Raime’s own circumstances.
“Your support would mean a great deal to me, Sir Leon,” August said with an almost pleading tone. “It’s no secret that my position is hardly secure, and anything that can help is not something I can afford to pass on…”
“I hope you’re not meaning that as a threat,” Leon said with a dangerous smile, though August’s tone hadn’t suggested it was.
“Of course I don’t mean it in that way,” August replied, leaning back into his chair. “My family is complicated. I have three brothers, but only one of them would I consider family. Beyond that, I have two sisters and a mother, and all three will be in some kind of danger should Octavius take the throne.
“My mother would likely be killed. She’s my father’s favorite concubine, and from what I know, the Queen hates her. She wouldn’t last an hour after my brother’s coronation. My younger sister would likely fare better, perhaps a political marriage if she’s lucky. My older brothers and sister would be fine, though likely exiled in all but name, unwelcome in court or at any other official gathering. Octavius means to destroy my family, Sir Leon, and I can’t let that happen.”
“And why would he want to do that?” Leon asked, his eyebrow raised in skepticism.
“I’m not sure, perhaps to cut down on the possibility of their children or even my siblings themselves threatening his hold on power. Either way, he’s already proven that he’s willing to kinslay to get what he wants and hold what he has.”
Leon’s eyebrow remained raised, but his expression morphed from one of skepticism to one of muted surprise. He knew that Minerva had secretly pledged the retinue to August in order to see the Earthshaker Paladin brought to justice, but he hadn’t been aware of exactly how much she had shared with Prince August.
“Yes, Sir Leon, Dame Minerva told me everything she knew when we met; I know that Octavius was the one who had my Uncle murdered. I even had a good conversation with Caecilius learning all the details he had to share. That I will do my absolute best to bring justice to those who’ve killed my uncle hardly needs to be stated.”
“I’m all for that, Your Highness,” Leon said. “However, my identity will not help you with that.”
“I disagree. It’s been almost two decades since House Raime was supposedly killed off,” August began, causing Leon to cringe a little when he mentioned House Raime by name, “but its name still carries a lot of weight among the nobles of the Northern Territories, especially those who live on the Great Plateau. The support of your House would help me greatly in making some in-roads there that I haven’t been able to make.”
“In revealing my identity, you will be revealing me to my enemies,” Leon matter-of-factly stated. “I understand your desperation, especially since it’s the fate of your loved ones at stake, however not only will I not be a puppet in your little pissing match with Octavius, I will also not make myself incredibly vulnerable just for you. I will follow Dame Minerva until the Earthshaker Paladin and all the rest who were responsible for Prince Trajan’s death have been dealt with, and then I’ll probably leave this Kingdom.”
August sighed dramatically as he slumped down in his chair in a most un-Princely fashion. “I’m sorry to hear that, Sir Leon. I’d hoped that you could provide me with greater aid than simply that of your sword arm. What was more, I was hoping that House Raime could be revived through you. I think even restoring you to the Archduchy of the Great Plateau would’ve been arranged…”
Leon didn’t bite this bait. He cared not a whit for the Great Plateau, and in fact, he actively didn’t want landed titles. That would tie him down to a static position, force him to settle in the Bull Kingdom. While he was sure he and Elise could easily find happiness in Teira, his goals were much higher; he couldn’t reach the Nexus, find his mother, and restore the Thunderbird Clan if he was stuck on Aeterna administering a relatively small spit of land for the rest of his life.
“What a shame, oh well,” Leon said, pointedly not trying to make his sad tone convincing.
“Well, if your sword arm is all I’ll have, then I’ll take it regardless,” August said, rising to his feet. “I’m sorry we couldn’t work something out, Sir Leon, but despite this, your secret will still remain safe with me.”
“Thank you,” Leon replied as he, too, stood up. He trusted August was intelligent enough not to reveal that particular bombshell, even with his own problems distracting him, as that could attract the attention of those who’d nearly wiped out House Raime. It would also invite embarrassment when Leon publicly denied his heritage, and that wasn’t something August could afford right now, not when he was so vulnerable and in need of allies.
August walked Leon to the door where the latter gave the former a shallow bow and departed. Leon didn’t even look back as he left the Royal Palace and started to make his way back home.
It hadn’t been entirely clear to Leon amidst the grief of Trajan’s death what exactly he wanted out of the Bull Kingdom anymore, but as he walked home, things started to fall into place in his head. He didn’t want to swear his loyalty to anyone else ever again. Trajan would be the last man to have such loyalty from him, at least as far as Leon intended—he wasn’t a soothsayer, after all.
From now on, Leon intended his loyalty to be conditional, almost the point of being transactional. He followed Trajan for his lofty if unrealistic ideals. He followed Artorias because Artorias was his father. No other authority figure would get his loyalty as those two had.
Of course, Leon wasn’t intending to break his word and start using people as tools, back-stabbing his way to the Nexus. Rather, he simply didn’t want to be tied down anymore. Being in the Legions was restrictive, being in the Forest of Black and White equally so. Swearing allegiance to a Prince or to a King would, like owning territory in the Kingdom, tie him down and keep him from doing what he needed to do.
There would be no more of that. Once the Earthshaker Paladin was dead and his business in the Bull Kingdom wrapped up, as far as Leon was concerned, he would be a free man.
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