Chương 120: Chapter 18: A Royal Visit

Havlar POV The council chamber feels smaller than usual tonight, although I know that has more to do with my impatience than the room itself. The long table remains exactly where it has always been, the high-backed chairs are arranged around it in their usual order and the tall windows still overlook the eastern reaches of Fallowspire, yet I find myself glancing toward the doors often enough that even Selene eventually notices. She doesn't comment on it. Neither does anyone else.

They have learned that when I am waiting for someone, particularly someone who has already been summoned and has not yet arrived, it is generally wiser to leave me to my thoughts. The King's letter rests before me, folded neatly with the royal seal facing upward, and although I have already read it enough times to know every important line by memory, I find my eyes returning to it whenever the conversation around the table falls quiet. The King is coming to Fallowspire.

He will be accompanied by his envoy and whatever attendants the Crown considers necessary, and while the letter itself contains nothing that could reasonably be interpreted as a threat, I have spent enough years dealing with politics to know that the absence of a threat does not necessarily mean the absence of danger. The council has already begun discussing preparations, but there is only so much we can decide without knowing when the royal party will arrive or how long they intend to remain.

Selene has been working through the matter of protocol, Brenner has raised questions about accommodation and security, while Marrec has already begun worrying about how the city's usual routines will be affected if the royal entourage occupies the keep and surrounding streets. I listen to each of them while occasionally offering a decision where one is needed, but my attention keeps returning to the doors. Eventually, the sound of footsteps approaches from the corridor.

I straighten slightly, expecting Kaelen, but the doors open to reveal Garrick instead. He looks as though he has spent the last hour fighting an army. His shirt is damp with sweat; his hair clings to his forehead and the exhaustion in his face is difficult to miss even from across the chamber. He has clearly come directly from training, and judging by the way he carries himself, Elyrion has once again decided that six months of progress is not an excuse to make his lessons any easier.

I look at him for a moment before raising an eyebrow, "Did you come here directly from the training yard?" Garrick glances down at himself as though he has only just noticed his condition; "Yes."

"I can tell." A few of the councilors hide smiles, and Garrick gives me a tired look before making his way toward the table; "Elyrion insisted we continue longer than usual."

"Of course he did." Garrick takes his seat, and I notice the way he exhales as he settles into it. Six months ago, I might have been concerned by the exhaustion written across his face, but I know enough about his training now to recognize the difference between someone who has pushed himself too far and someone who has simply worked hard. Whatever Elyrion put him through, Garrick is still sitting upright and alert.

"You could have cleaned yourself up first."

"I was told the meeting was immediate."

"I did say immediate." Garrick gives me a dry look, "Then perhaps, my lord, this is your fault." A quiet laugh moves around the table, and even Selene allows herself a faint smile before turning her attention toward the doors again.

"Where is Kaelen?"

"Last I know, he had gone to the Adventurer's Guild," Garrick says.

"He should have received the message by now."

"He has." The voice comes from the doorway. Every head in the chamber turns. Kaelen stands there with Gale beside him, and for a moment I simply stare at him. If Garrick looks like he has spent the last hour fighting a swordsman, Kaelen looks as though he has spent considerably longer fighting something that wanted to kill him. Dust covers the lower half of his clothes; his coat bears several fresh marks and there is a faint stain along one sleeve that I suspect is not his own blood.

Gale looks considerably less bothered by the journey, although the cub's fur carries enough dust to suggest that he has been through the same ordeal. I lean back in my chair, "Please tell me you didn't come directly from a dungeon." Kaelen glances down at himself before looking back at me, "I did." I close my eyes for a brief moment, "Of course you did."

Garrick lets out a tired laugh beside me, and Kaelen walks toward the table with the same calm expression he seems to carry regardless of whether he has spent the day attending Guild business or fighting magical beasts beneath the earth. He takes the empty seat beside Garrick, while Gale settles near his feet and immediately begins inspecting the chamber as though he has attended council meetings often enough to know that someone should always keep an eye on the exits. I look at the two men sitting before me.

One is still sweating from six months of increasingly demanding training. The other has apparently walked straight out of a dungeon and into a council meeting. For a moment, I wonder whether they have both deliberately decided to make my evening more difficult.

"At least one of you could have arrived looking presentable." The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. Kaelen glances toward Garrick, "I think he looks worse." Garrick turns toward him, "You came from a dungeon."

"And you came from Elyrion." The corner of my mouth lifts despite myself, "Enough." The brief amusement fades as I look around the table again, because whatever entertainment their appearance might provide, the reason I summoned them remains unchanged. The King's letter is still lying in front of me, the royal seal catching the light from the lamps above, and suddenly the room feels considerably quieter than it did a moment ago.

I place one hand over the parchment, "The reason I called you both here is because the King is coming to Fallowspire." For several seconds, no one speaks after I give them the news, and I allow the silence to remain because there is little point in rushing what I know will inevitably become a long discussion. The council has already heard the essential details from me before, but Garrick and Kaelen have not, and I can see the questions forming on their faces as they look from me to the sealed letter on the table.

Garrick is the first to break the silence.

"The King is coming here?"

"Yes."

"When?"

"Soon. The letter does not give an exact date, only that the Crown will announce his arrival through the appropriate channels." Kaelen's eyes settle on the parchment.

"And his envoy?"

"He will be accompanied by an envoy and a royal delegation." I watch his expression carefully, but there is no visible alarm in it. Instead, he seems to be considering what the visit actually means, while Garrick leans back slightly in his chair and exchanges a brief glance with me. Around the table, the councilors begin returning to the discussion they had been having before the two arrived, and Selene is the first to bring the conversation back toward practical matters.

"We need to determine where the royal party will stay," she says.

"The keep can accommodate the King and his immediate attendants, but depending on the size of the delegation, we may need to reserve additional accommodations nearby."

"Brenner can arrange that," I say, and he gives a short nod before making a note.

"The guards will need to be doubled around the keep and the main roads leading into the eastern district," Veyra adds.

"Not because we expect trouble, but because the King's presence will attract enough people that ordinary patrols may not be sufficient." Garrick nods.

"I'll see that it is done."

"Do not empty the city watch to protect the King," I tell him.

"Fallowspire still needs its normal defenses."

"I know." Marrec speaks next, raising the question of food and supplies, while Alden points out that the Crown's delegation will expect a certain level of accommodation regardless of how long they remain. The discussion moves naturally from one concern to another, and I find myself grateful that the council has returned to practical matters. Those are problems we can solve.

Guards can be assigned, rooms can be prepared and supplies can be arranged, while protocol can be handled by people who have spent far more time studying the habits of nobles than I ever cared to. Yet beneath all of it remains the question no one seems willing to ask. Kaelen finally does.

"He is coming to visit the Grove, isn't he?" The room quiets again. I look toward him, finding no accusation in his expression and no defensiveness either. He is simply asking for an answer, and perhaps that is the part of him that has changed most over these past months.

The Kaelen who first arrived in Fallowspire might have regarded the King's interest as an intrusion before the question had even been asked, but the man sitting before me now seems to understand that refusing the Crown without cause would accomplish nothing.

"Yes," I say.

"I believe the Grove is the primary reason for his visit." Kaelen considers that for a moment before nodding, "Then he can visit." Several councilors exchange glances. I study him carefully.

"You're not opposed?"

"Why would I be?"

"The King is not exactly another curious merchant or passing noble."

"I know." Kaelen rests one hand against the table, his expression remaining calm as he looks around the chamber.

"I'm its Grovekeeper. That doesn't make it mine. If the King wishes to see the Grove, then he is welcome to do so. He can walk its paths, see the Silverwood and speak with those who live there, provided he comes as a guest and does not seek to harm it or take from it what does not belong to him." His gaze shifts briefly toward the window, in the direction of the eastern district where the abandoned garden lies beyond the streets between us and it, "The Grove has been good to Fallowspire.

I don't see a reason to treat someone who comes to see it as an enemy, simply because he happens to be King." There is a quietness to his answer that makes the room listen more carefully. Then he adds, "But if anyone comes intending to harm it, I will stand by it." The words are simple, and yet I understand exactly what he means. Kaelen respects Fallowspire.

He respects its laws, its people and the authority I holds over the city, and I suspect that if the King walks through the Grove as a guest, Kaelen will offer him the same courtesy he would offer anyone else. But there is a line beneath all of that, one that Kaelen has never needed to draw for us because we have always understood that it existed. The Grove comes first. Selene seems to understand it as well, "And if the King asks about Communion?"

Kaelen's expression changes slightly, though his voice remains steady, "Then I'll tell him what I know."

"And what do you know?"

"Not enough." A few councilors shift uneasily. Kaelen looks toward Garrick before continuing.

"I offered Garrick to be the sword for the Grove but he was chosen by the Grove. I brought him there because he was willing to undergo the Communion, but I don't know why the Grove accepted him, and I don't know whether it would accept someone else." Garrick remains silent, although I notice his hand resting against the arm of his chair. Alden leans forward.

"Then if the King asks you to allow another person to undergo it?" Kaelen looks at him, "I can't promise something I don't control." The answer is immediate enough to leave little room for misunderstanding.

"He may ask," Kaelen continues, "and if the Grove accepts him, that's between them. If it doesn't, then it doesn't." I watch the council absorb that answer, and for once no one immediately argues. Perhaps they have finally begun to understand the distinction I have spent months trying to preserve. The Grove is not a possession of the city. It is not Kaelen's possession either. And whatever power lies within it cannot simply be ordered to reveal itself because someone with enough authority demands an answer.

Selene finally breaks the silence, "Then our task is simple." I look toward her, "We prepare Fallowspire to receive the King," she says.

"We do not decide what the Grove will give him." I nod, "Exactly." The discussion resumes after that, returning to accommodations, security and the arrangements that will need to be made before the royal party reaches Fallowspire. Yet even as the council begins dividing responsibilities among themselves, I find my attention drifting toward the royal seal resting on the table. Six months ago, I discovered a story I knew would eventually reach the Crown and now it has.

There is no longer any distance between Fallowspire and the questions that began the moment Garrick walked out of the Grove able to see mana. I look toward Kaelen. He sits quietly beside Garrick, listening to the council discuss preparations as though the arrival of a king is simply another problem that needs to be handled properly. Perhaps that is what I find most reassuring about him. He isn't afraid of the King but he isn't eager to impress him either.

He simply knows where he stands and as the council continues planning for the royal visit, I realize that may be the one thing we will need most when the Crown finally arrives at our gates.