The young boy quickly followed the king, he had felt his time in the room had worn thin. Their look of confusion at his presence left him at a loss for words as he too was not sure, why he was attending such serious matters. He tried his best to ignore what it was they talked about instead focused on his drawing of the Church of Multitude. From once he first saw it, he was unable to get the image out of his head. He was filled with the desire to draw it continuously, to commit it to memory. The boy was trying his best to keep his thoughts away from his father, the image of his corpse still fresh in his mind's eye. Before leaving the room he turned to the rest of the council and bowed deeply. In his short time with Antares, he had quickly learned of the customary traditions of those of lesser birth to do in the presence of nobles. Although given that he was under the King's watch there was no need for such formalities. But nevertheless the council softened their thoughts on the boy. For to show such respect for people he did know was to be commended. Even Antares smiled.

  “Hey, since when were you so polite? "Antares ruffled his sandy hair as they walked together. “Do not tell me you were trying to impress the girls?”

  Cyrus brushed his hand away, his cheeks red. “So what if I was, I was just being shiverous.”

  “I think you mean chivalrous.” Antares teased. “And stop being so honest. Women will take advantage of you.”

  “How would you know? You don’t even have a wife.” Cyrus said, sticking his tongue out at the king.

  With one swift motion, Antares snagged Cyrus’ tongue before he even realized it. For a moment Cyrus had forgotten that he was not in the presence of an ordinary man. The man who held his tongue and looked at him with dusk colored eyes was something beyond his understanding. And yet he felt safest near him.

  “I was betrothed to another once,” Cyrus gazed into Antares eyes. “But that was a long time ago.” He could see storms brewing on the horizon, getting violent.

  The boy tried to speak, but could not. Antares soon after let go of his tongue with a pinch. Something Cyrus was not likely to forget any time soon. As he nursed his swollen tongue, his mind could not help but turn over the King's words. It had been something that Cyrus had never really had the opportunity to think about. But he did find it curious that someone as beautiful and as loved as Antares was, was without a partner. He turned to look at the young King.

  “What happened?” Cyrus asked. It was only for the briefest of moments, a mere moment between seconds. But Cyrus Stygian eyes caught a look of overwhelming sadness from the King's face.

  “I will tell you when you are at least half my height.” Antares placed a hand on his head emphasizing how small Cyrus was.

  Cyrus was about to declare war on Antares, when his attention was stolen by the Stygian princess that made their way towards him. He thought Ser Melina to be the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, but such a thought was quickly displaced by the woman in front of him.

  “Ah Cirella, you came,” Antares smiled at her. “You look tired.”

  “M-my king. It is nothing. I just did not sleep much.” She did her best to smile reassuringly, but fear overloaded most of her thoughts.

  Ever since a message made its way to her chambers the night before requesting an audience with the king, Cirella could not sleep. She was wracked with dread upon what Antares could request from her. Their last conversation was nearly a fortnight ago and ever since she had done well to stay out of his way. The castle was large, it was not difficult to do. She half expected that he would have forgotten about her, that matters of the state would be far too important to entertain any thought of what to do with her and her husband. She had admitted to everything, told him what they wished to do and nothing. She lived to see another day, and the day after that, and the day after that one. The anticipation was beyond what she could handle. She barely slept and on the nights she did she woke up far more exhausted. But after so long, the message delivered to her last night spurred her with new terror. And so she looked disheveled, unable to meet the King's gaze for fear of drawing his ire.

  “I would like to introduce someone to you.” Antares began, “He has recently come underneath my care.”

  Cirella followed Antares gaze to the boy who looked like his eyes were about to pop out of his face. The first thing she noticed about him was how dirty he looked. He was riddled in bandages and bruises. Even for a Stygian this boy was far too unkempt to be called one. She wondered where the boy came from. More so, a growing concern she had was how red the boy's face was quickly getting the longer she looked at him.

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  “Is… Is he alright?” Cirella said, sheepishly pointing at him.

  Antares nudged Cyrus.

  “H-h-hello p-princess my n-n-name is C-Cy” It seemed as though Cyrus had forgotten the common tongue.

  Antares rolled his eyes, “This is Cyrus. Forgive him, he seems to have developed a stutter.” He lowered Cyrus’ head. “His father asked for a favor, and I am honoring it.”

  Cirella confused, cautiously bowed. “I am Princess Cirella Xerxes. It is nice to meet you Cyrus.”

  “Great now that the pleasantries are over.” Antares turned to Cirella, “Ciri I need a favor.”

  Cirella allowed the words of her king to gestate in her head for a moment. She was sure she was still dreaming, worse yet possibly hallucinating. For it was impossible for her to have heard the words that were spoken by Antares Xerxes, the Antares Xerxes, King of Iliad himself. She did not want to ask again for fear of causing offense in any way, or perhaps waking herself from this dream she was in. But the flat expression Antares carried quickly snapped her back to reality. She looked to respond before his brow furrowed even an inch.

  “F-from me your grace?” her true feelings seeped out.

  Antares approached her and reached out. She reflexively closed her eyes but stood firm. Even with her eyes closed she could tell he stood over her, his hands soft and soothing, making their way across her body fixing her attire. She had hurriedly gotten dressed and did not care to make herself too presentable. She did not think Antares would care so much but once again she was wrong about him. He carefully tidied her up. Cirella could not bring herself to open her eyes and so left them shut.

  “I need you to watch Cyrus. Only for the day. There is much I have to deal with today, I will not be as free as I like.”

  “What!?” Cirella and Cyrus screamed in unison, much to the shock of the people who passed them by.

  “A-Antares I am not a child nurse!” Cirella exclaimed.

  “I am not a child,” Cyrus glared at Cirella. “What happened to you teaching me how to fight like you?” Cyrus moaned.

  Cirella raised an eyebrow, “Antares why are you teaching a child to fight?”

  Cyrus turned back to Cirella ready to fight back. Antares sighed loudly and rubbed his forehead. He assumed Cyrus would be difficult given his age but not Cirella too. Admittedly he could have had Cyrus be looked after by any of the hundreds of servants that served the castle or even his own mother Lady Alena. But he wanted to offer the opportunity to Cirella, he hoped she would see the good will he was trying to extend to her. But once again she failed to meet his expectations. The young King had spent the better part of his morning being yelled at, the experience had worn very thin, and he had finally reached the limits of his patience.

  “Enough,” Antares demanded.

  The overwhelming force of his Kingspeak silenced them both with utmost authority. Both of them forgot themselves, they were in the presence of a true monarch one who wore two of the nine crowns that ruled Aurum. His casualness was a luxury that they over indulged in. All of this was said merely in one word. Such was Antares master of the legendary tongue. Even Cirella admitted to herself, Antares was deserving of the title of king.

  Antares sighed, “Sorry. I did not mean to do that so casually." Both of them looked at him like disciplined children.

  The king first turned to Cirella, “I only ask for one day, look after him.” His words soothing now, “Bathe him, clothe him, feed him, show him around. I will not forget this favor Cirella.”

  Cirella nodded her head in submission.

  He now turned to Cyrus, who looked uninterested. “Do not pout,” he teased him.

  “I’m not pouting,” Cyrus responded by crossing his arms.

  Antares dropped to one knee, “I have not forgotten my promise to teach you how to protect yourself. As your fathers letter asked me. But there is still much I must deal with as ruler, and things to fix as you have seen.” His gaze turned to Cirella for a moment who quickly looked down.

  Cyrus sheepishly nodded in agreement. And Antares ruffled his hair, teasing him again. And with that Antares bid the pair a goodbye as he headed back to the council room. He would only admit this to himself but he was deeply worried he may have made a mistake leaving Cirella in the care of Cyrus given she and his brother were involved in a plot to kill him. But despite that Antares was not so quick to throw Cirella and Daimion to the wolves. Her complete honesty was enough to peak his interest, unlike her husband she was willing to sacrifice everything if it meant the safety of her children. In that, Antares saw something, he hoped Cirella would not disappoint him again, he was quickly growing tired of disappointment within his own family.