Chương 364: 8.9

Evren thought he would rest easier, feel more secure, and have some sense of victory with the 'departure' of his 'regent'. That it would make his family safer to not have the awful man scheming. However he almost felt worse. Especially talking to Fizzbunches about what they would need to do in the immediate and then more distant future." High King Murad's wrath will keep them safe for another year, maybe two. But we must secure your family ourselves for after that.

Those that are in a position to do them harm know the truth or close enough to it. The Once Prince Abas failed to obey, thus he was exiled. The closest to power among them will know that lie and fear his true fate." Evren was especially disquieted by that. Failed to Obey, he had revealed only a fraction of the 'Regent' and his 'failures to obey' and the High King had beaten the man into paste in a tower. Apparently without even picking up a single hint of the violence and brutality upon his 'finery'.

Sorcerous rings, at least two, some magical weave in his clothes. All commissions from the Djinn Nation at what Fizzbunches assured him was a terrifying cost. The labor of years from a city like Kars and all the towns and villages that fed into it. Just for one of the three things the Cat Wizard had seen. Treasures that even beyond their cost were not even available to the Princes of Magarska from what whispers Evren and his feline conspirator could tell.

His wind thrashed inside him, even though Evren had not violated the Vow between him and the High King. That did not mean his family was safe. Hamid could have an 'accident' as long as it was by no act of the High King or those he'd had bound the same way by the stars. Evren had already seen how the words of those promises could be twisted between parties that trusted them too deeply. It seemed to be most of the activity of the Princes and Courtiers in the palace to maneuver around them.

Like a never ending training drill dodging imagined blades. Promises, Oaths and Vows. Both sanctified by the heavens and merely upheld out of fear or loyalty. In Kars these things were like minor gaps and fences to guide flocks. A thing for 'lesser' people to be closed off by. But not true fetters or even obstacles for the 'powerful'. In Terminopolis? They were blades, sharp and dangerous but still just as skillfully avoided.

And foolish Hazim would be trapped in a whirling maze of them until after Evren and the Shining Doom of the North could meet and whatever business she or her keepers wanted with the High King was settled. Evren admitted that he took some pleasure in dictating to his brother in the manner that his own keepers had to him.

"Food should be lifted with three fingers, avoiding the ways of those who only pretended to do so while in fact using all five of them or even the palms of their hands." Although if he was honest the way that it was described in the texts he fully grasped now were quite humorous and easier to follow then the endless berating he was doing. It was especially funny how much Hazim resembled one from the book. His brother's ears flicked back at the chastisement.

"I know how to eat brother, I'm not a child!" Evren fixed his brother with a look before stating with a lilt of the Magarskan's court tongue to the familiar words of home." The shoveler, If he puts a bite of food in his mouth, the tips of his fingers go with it, as if he was pushing it in with them." If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Hazim sputtered.

"B-but! I didn't even touch my teeth or lips-" Evren sighed, it was one of the more unfair rules of the table of the High courts. A stupid requirement meant for snub faced men whose mouths were a quivering hole in their face instead of that of a gutti's snout.

"Just so brother, but they will see you as a pretending beast for failing to do it Hazim, as a common animal." Hazim began to smell angry, ashamed, ears quivering back and forth. A glint of tears to his face.

"B-but It's clean and proper! My teachers complimented me on my table manners! They were pleased!" Evren sighed, that had been cruel of him, but Hazim was going to be joining the High King's feasts now as an honored guest. His brother was foolish but distressingly earnest in a desire to be seen as a civil man fitting for the 'station'. But he was woefully unprepared, and if he gave offense to the wrong man at the table of the High King it could 'dishonor' them enough a reprisal would be called for.

A reprisal that could slip past some of the vows to the stars. Insult and dishonor could be twisted into betrayal and blows. A 'strike' done in words or even a simple lack of 'proper' actions is enough to absolve the most common vow of "strike none of my fellow men in court before his blow upon me." Hazim had to learn these things or he might absolve a murderer from the protections of Evren's family by simply smacking his lips!

"My dear elder brother. This is the High Court of the Kingdom of Magarska, one of the princes could declare a duel against you if you insult the hospitality of their table." His brother's ears went back and he snarled.

"But the high king promised, he swore to the gods. You said it yourself! He has to protect us, surely he would intervene? At his own table?" Evren looked down at his brother, who was older than him, and at one time so much larger, then sighed heavily. The breath of it billowed the curtains and sheets of the guest room, ruffling Evren's fur and feathers, making Hazim's ear twitch.

"My dear brother, I've been in the court of Kars for most of six years. I've listened to every word they whisper, every act they try to hide. I've smelled them lie, I've seen their tricks. For every single thing they promise to do or not do there are a dozen routes they can take to avoid it. To hold to the word of their promise but not the spirit." Hazim whined, growling.

"But the gods-" The Wyrm prince spoke over him, lashing his tail and ruffling his feathers in agitation.

"Even against the gods they scheme and weedle like merchants Hazim. Even worse than peddlers!" His brother flinched back at the rumble of his voice and Evren flinched himself. Pulling back the fierceness of his tone with a softer tone.

"My brother, please! I can't protect you here. You need to learn to act like they wish if you are going to attend the High King's Feasts." Hazim stared up at him.

"Y-you can't? B-but you are a wyrm! You're a prince!" Evren looked down at his feet, at the etched summer festival shaving in his fur that his 'Regent' had called for because he preferred the look of it.

"The vow to the gods was made by us both Hazim, if one breaks it the other side is released. If the High King commands I leave you alone in a duel then my choice is to leave you to a lord's mercy, or strip our family of his protection!" The bizarrely white cat sitting on a cushion watching the both of them finally chose that moment to speak up.

"It is most fortunate then, that you alone are not the only one who could defend him. Even beyond the protection offered by his Amulet of Ghergeintat" The white cat which Evren could smell was female strutted up between the two of them, speaking in the old grizzled voice of Fizzbunches, smirking in a way that no cat could.

"Learn as well as you can the frivolous games of courtly dining Hazim, but both of you be assured, that if the worst comes to pass I will intervene." The white cat turned over her shoulder to look up at Evren.

"After all, was that not our deal oh Shepherd Wyrm?"