“I’ve finished now,”

Ven’s beauty appeared in the doorway, looking as sheepish as ever. His hair was ever more mussed than before, and his face was in the same tear-stained state as Ven’s sister. At the sight of him, Ven’s face instinctively relaxed into a smile, before confusion began to set in.

“You extinguished the candles?” Duke Bejuk was oblivious to the torment that Ven was suffering. His father and sister would be no help, all Ven had to look to was the beauty, who refused to meet his eyes once the initial shock had subsided.

“Yes, I extinguished them,”

Ven’s beauty was the Shakje. Was the new Shak. Was stubbornly refusing to look at him. 
“Then he is at peace at last,” Bejuk said. Before the Shak could so much as sit down, the Duke thrust a plate of steamed buns which had long gotten cold into his hands. 

“Eat, we have much more to discuss,”

Ven wished for someone to speak up. To say that the Shak was clearly tired and injured. That he needed a hot bath a soft bed and a healer. His father and sister wouldn’t speak up. The Kaolin idiot didn’t say a word. The Shak did nothing to stand up for himself, taking a tentative bite of the food.

“Do you feel unwell? I can make a tonic to settle your stomach,” Duke Bejuk said, and thankfully, the Shak did push back against that. 

He told him he was fine, and took a few more bites to prove his point. The way his pale throat bobbed did things to Ven. 

“Firstly, since myself and Duke Ashem are here, and Duke Kaolin has sent a representative,” Bejuk shot a withering look at young master Kaolin, “now is as good a time as any to officially pledge our loyalty to the new the Shak,” 

Duke Bejuk knelt before the Shak, took his hand in his - how Ven wished he was acting in his father’s place - and said his piece. 

“I, the Duke of Bejuk, swear to follow the orders of my late master, to ensure the proper rites are carried out, the health of his family is well defended, and the desert savages never set foot on our lands,”

When he was done, the Kaolin oaf and Ven’s father took their turns.

“On behalf of my father, the Duke of Kaolin…”

“I, the Duke of Ashem, swear to offer my support to the new Shak, to bring wealth to our people and defend against attacks from the wicked people of the southern plains. May his reign be long and prosperous,” 

Duke Ashem was smiling at the Shak, gripping his hand and speaking in the gentle and certain way one might use to reassure a scared child. The sight sickened Ven. He saw the Shak breathe a sigh of relief when his father finally released his hand. Poor thing. 

Next, Bejuk went about discussing the matter of funeral rites, and Ven saw his beauty’s face grow deathly pallid.

“Perhaps it would be better for the Shana to handle these matters. She knew my father well, she likely knows his wishes better than I do,” 

At this the Ashem Shana erupted into tears, saying something incomprehensible through the sobs. Ven couldn’t help but feel disdain for his sister. The new Shak was as cute and vulnerable as a kitten, and only barely more than a child. After driving an infant out of his home the least she could do is take responsibility for the corpse.

“It’s the son’s duty to ensure his father’s peaceful rest,” Duke Ashem said, “or have you forgotten that?”

All the loyalty and devotion of his vow was now gone, this was the father Ven recognised.

Duke Bejuk likely would have stood up for the Shak. If not, even the Kaolin oaf might have done a passable job. But Ven felt like his manhood would be on the line if he didn’t step up to defend his kitten against a wolf. 

“His Majesty must be tired from the journey. It’s unfair to force him to make a decision so soon. His duty can wait until he has had a good night’s sleep,” 

Two people turned to stare at Ven when he said that. One, the round, awed eyes of the Shak. Finally, looking at him. The same grateful look as when Ven had seen the beast off. 

Two, his father. Glaring at him with a whole different kind of shock. A son refusing his duties to his father was one thing after death, talking against the father while he was still alive might as well be a capital offence.

“Young master Ven is right. The vows are complete, and the late Shak’s spirit has departed. All other matters can wait until the morning,” Duke Bejuk broke the tension between father and son. 

Ven had no chance of talking with the Shak alone. Bejuk was relentless in his attention, and the Kaolin oaf was guarding him like a dog. That was not troublesome enough, his father and sister were eager to drag him away and question him.