There were few areas of the palace the Finneas would describe as hostile. While much of it came off as intimidating due to the age and the intricacy of the architecture, it was nothing a person couldn’t get used to with time. As he’d grown up, everything had felt much less massive and terrifying. He was sure part of that was just from his own growth– not being a little kid put things in perspective– but he also knew he’d been numbed to the weight of this place. The halls were wide, making it comfortable to navigate. Maron’s rooms were like home. Even the servants’ quarters were alright. While not the absolute masterpiece that the rest of the palace was, they were homey and easy to relax in.

The throne room, however, was not a place anyone ought to have gone unless absolutely necessary. While Maron’s wing was ornate and decorated finely, the throne room was simply ostentatious. Gleaming with gold and jewels, deep emerald velvet on every corner, it was opulent to the extreme. It wasn’t often used, just a relic of ages past, when full courts might have been held. For the most part, it was used for ceremony and maintained for history’s sake. Proper meetings were much more likely to occur in a smaller, more practical office.

That Finneas had been summoned to the throne room specifically could only be interpreted as a show of intimidation. Perhaps if Finneas were less familiar with the royal family, it might have worked better, but it really did feel like overkill. It was dramatic, and that made it somehow less frightening.

Still, despite his best efforts, there was a knot in the center of Finneas’s stomach as he approached the doors. It wasn’t that he was afraid of His Majesty. It was just that he didn’t want to deal with this. To have all of the facts laid bare before him, to hear exactly what the consequences of any mistakes would be, was so much more unpleasant than allowing them to remain unspoken.

But this would need to be dealt with. He took a breath, and entered. The room dripped with excess, and at the head of it was a man who, despite only being in his fifties, seemed as old as time itself. His skin was light and thin, almost translucent in the sunlight drifting through the windows. Old, leathery hands gripped the arms of the throne on which he sat, and his eyes did nothing but glower coldly toward Finneas.

Finneas approached, kneeling before the steps that led to the chair. “Your Majesty.”

“Rise.” Finneas stood, but did not meet the man’s eyes. “You know why you’re here.”

Finneas nodded. He was certain there was only one reason His Majesty would summon him now. He gripped his wrist. They still felt oddly empty and light. “I believe so, Your Majesty.”

The man sighed. “I have no ill will toward you, boy, but you ought to know by now that magic has no place in Leeden. I allowed my son the option to remove your cuffs to appease the Captain. I did so under the assumption that his fears would keep him in line.”

Finneas’s lips pressed together tightly, but didn’t answer that.

“Now that it’s been done, I will not undo it. However, if I hear of your smallest mistake, loss of your powers will be the least of your concerns.”

Finneas nodded. It was as he suspected. There would be eyes on him at all times, awaiting the moment he messed up and ready to pounce. “I understand. I will do everything possible to ensure that no one is hurt. Especially His Highness.”

“I assumed you’d say this.” The man shifted, resting his head lazily in his palm, as though this attempt at intimidation was too boring to bother giving his whole attention to. “My son is fond of you, much more so than I realized previously. If he can overlook your power to grant your freedoms, then he must care for you a great deal. And, I assume, you care for him as much.”

The question felt like a trick. There was no way anything he said would be the right answer. It wasn’t as though His Majesty had never heard rumors of the two of them. If he truly wanted them quelled, it would have been done a long time ago. It wasn’t that he had an issue with that. Answering too bluntly, however, would come off as if he were unbothered by the rumors and Maron’s reputation. But hesitation to admit any goodwill toward him would be too far in the other direction. “I pledged my loyalty to His Highness. I will never turn my back on him.”

His Majesty seemed to mull on that for a moment, deciding whether or not it was an acceptable response. “I hope that you will not. He is not the only person affected by your actions. You could hurt others or cause damage to your surroundings. If anyone or anything is injured by your magic, you will be removed from your position. You will not see my son again.” 

Finneas nodded. It was just as he had expected. “Of course, Your Majesty.”

“Good. Now, there is one other matter I would like to discuss with you.”

Finneas nearly looked up to meet the man’s eyes in confusion. He had thought he was well aware of the purpose of this meeting. There were few things he could imagine being as vital to His Majesty as ensuring Finneas knew his place regarding magic. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

“My son is of marriageable age. I do not require that he marry before taking the throne, but I do have some number of suitors that I would like for him to meet with and which I approve of to share the throne.”

Oh. If Finneas had thought that it was better for the consequences of his mistakes to remain unspoken, he certainly had expected this to go unmentioned. It was fine for citizens and servants to talk and bicker amongst themselves about what may or may not happen behind closed doors. It was something else entirely for the king himself to ask him about it blatantly. “I understand.”

“I do not know if you do.”

Finneas’s blood felt cold. No amount of inherent warmth could solve that. He stood frozen before the man, silent. What was he meant to say to that?

“I am not blind. I have allowed the two of you to go about whatever it is you are doing because there is no harm in it. I would rather my son flirt with a servant than cause a scandal among nobility or have some torrid affair with foreign royalty.”

That was, to be honest, about what Finneas expected. As long as he didn’t cause trouble, this was fine. It wasn’t as if Maron was the type to cling to him in public. Maron was hardly the type to cling at all. If he’d ever had interest in a nobleman or foreign princess, it wouldn’t have been noticed by anyone, regardless of if Finneas was around to keep him from trouble.

“But Maron is not going to marry you. You would do well to bear that in mind when interacting with his suitors. You seem confident that he would never choose one of them out of favor toward you, but he will marry eventually. If not for affection, then to offer Leeden something you cannot. Do not stand in the way of his suitors.” The man leaned back in his seat.

Finneas nodded. It was much less that this was intimidating and more that it was uncomfortable. He supposed it would be uncomfortable to have this conversation with any parent, regardless of their status. It wasn’t as though he had experience with this particular area, but surely this conversation would be unpleasant no matter who it took place with.

“I expect that you will not hinder his progress with Lord Altrusia further.”

Finneas blinked. “No, Your Majesty,” he said, though he was a bit taken aback by the words. It was not as though the man had made much progress. Even without Finneas in the picture at all, he couldn’t imagine Maron enjoying his company. He struggled for a moment, trying to find any words.

He took a short, grateful breath of air when a knock came at the door. The relief doubled when Patricia entered the room, a small smile on her lips as she bowed. “Your Majesty, if I may interrupt, His Highness has summoned Mr. Stone.”

The king nodded, and waved for Finneas to leave. “Go, then. But remember this. You know what happened to Jameson Pallor. Do not follow in his footsteps, or I will need to make a second example to the nation.”

Finneas didn’t say a word. He was not Jameson Pallor. That everyone around him expected him to be, that there was some fear deep in his own chest that he could someday turn out like that, none of that made it true. Hearing those words from His Majesty’s lips, perhaps by spite alone, hardened Finneas’s resolved. He swallowed. “Yes, Your Majesty.” He turned, remaining silent as he made his way to the door. With Patricia at his side, he exited, only allowing himself to breathe properly once the door had shut behind them.

“I know it’s none of my business and I don’t know what that whole conversation was, little brother, but what he said was uncalled for.” Patricia pouted, her arms crossing over her chest. The gold on her wrists shone in the light.

Finneas nodded, straightening himself. “I’m sure His Majesty was only trying to guide me down the correct path,” he said. It was a charitable suggestion, and the look on Patricia’s face said that she didn’t believe for a second that he meant it. “Thank you for coming to my rescue.”

She smiled, shaking her head. “Your prince was looking for you when I brought him his hot chocolate. I figured I could take the time to find you. Wanted to check on you anyhow.” She reached forward, placing a hand on his wrist and fixing her eyes on the skin. “It really is true, then.” Her hands, wrinkled and hardened with time, moved over his forearm, touch gentle and uncertain, as though she wasn’t sure whether or not to believe the sight of them bare.

“It is.”

“You need to take care of yourself. It won’t do to have you in trouble with the family.” She sighed, shaking her head. “I’m happy for you, little brother,” she said, giving his hand a brief squeeze before letting it go “You take care of yourself and your prince, alright? I don’t much care for that little Lord he’s had around.” Her voice was low, sure to be unheard by anyone else.

Finneas nodded, making his way up the stairs with Patricia at his side. “I don’t believe he’s well-liked by anyone else, either,” Finneas said. “Still, he’s a guest of His Majesty, so we’d do well to respect him as such.”

Patricia frowned. “Call me an old lady stuck in her ways, but I don’t suppose I believe in respecting anyone who doesn’t respect you right back. You and I have no need to give him the time of day if he won’t do the same. You do your duties and you don’t do anything extra for the likes of him. You understand?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said with a soft laugh. It was unlikely, he was sure, that Damon Altrusia would approach him asking for anything. Even when it had been his job as a guest attendant, the man hadn’t accepted any help from him. As the pair approached the door, he paused. “Thank you again for getting me out of there.”

“Of course, my boy.” She pat his arm gently, her touch soft. She was always so careful with him, as though he were still just a frail little kid. He supposed in her eyes, he still was. “You go to your prince and I’ll bring the coffee cart around again for you soon.”

Finneas nodded. “Thank you again.”