Chapter 178: Parley at the Waterway

Plucking at the string, Rosalia played the final note and opened her eyes. Whilst William and the rest of his group applauded her, seeing Vincent, he stared ahead, watching her, his gaze completely suspicious of her.

’Although all reports said he was shallow.’ Standing up, Rosalia sweetly chuckled and grabbed the end of her dress, bowing towards the group. ’They never said he was dim. He already knows something is wrong.’ Despite the worry, Rosalia didn’t panic, making sure to keep her thin smile. Instead, she needed to reanalyse everything about him; the informaiton provided a mixture of lies and truth.

’He has yet to touch his drink or food. They said he had his own personal cook. We had assumed it was because he was scared, but this is different. Even if served something you hate, a good guest will pretend. He is actively avoiding it.’

Judging his appearance, Rosalia continued to smile, waiting for him to say soemthing, continuing her analysis, ’He hates being touched and will not touch others. Elitism... no, it’s different. Maybe part of it is arrogance after he calls himself the Glamirous, but this is different.’ Thinking for a moment, she widened her eyes in realisation. It was a hateful comparison but one that only made sense to her with everything she knew.

’A history of being labelled as filthy and born of lust. Unable to touch or be touched. Inability to eat food not personally prepared by himself or one he completely trusts. No, this isn’t fear of assassination nor elitism. No, he’s like the rest of the Priesthood and me. A complete aversion to what we deem filthy in church.’

It was simple and angering that it was like her and her brothers and sister in faith. Their churches, their holy relics, everything had to be clean. When they stepped into church, they had to be clean. To not be was disgusting and tarnish the Lord. But the source was different. Whilst hers was religious devotion, Vincent’s was created from a fragile ego that could never remove the stain of his birth.

’Poison won’t work, nor will seduction. This is annoying.’

She wasn’t a fighter. Her plan had been to poison him when they lay together and slip out afterwards before anyone noticed, but the plan had completely failed before it could even begin. Every woman who claimed to be his lover was fake; their intel was completely wrong. He wasn’t a lustful beast who slept with any woman he could, but a man so self-conscious he couldn’t stand the thought of being touched by those he considered filthy.

’I can only do this one way.’

Her gaze chilled for a moment before returning to normal. Watching William and Vincent, she saw a path, however. It was clear William despised the man he sat next to, only putting up with him because of his name. It was likely he didn’t personally care if he died.

"Thank you." Vincent finally spoke and rose. Reaching into the pouch on his waist, he pulled out a gold coin and flicked it towards Rosalia, the coin bouncing on the floor. "If you will excuse me now." Quickly, he walked off, covering his face with his hand. Rosalia watched, his gaze never leaving her until he walked past, a deeply untrusting look in his eyes.

’I’ll only get a brief window, it seems.’

Bending down, Rosalia picked up the gold coin and fiddled with it between her fingers. Staring at the image of the Cosmaton star, she took a deep breath and sat back down, ready to play another song, seeing William wished for her to continue.

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Anton watched as the bridge to the Waterway lowered. Atop the wall, hundreds of archers held their bows, arrows sitting tightly on the string, waiting for the parley to be anything but what it was intended for. Internally scoffing, he brushed it off. After all, had he been on the other side of the wall, he would have ordered the same thing.

A gust of air shot up as the bridge finally fell, and opposite it, Anton met his uncle’s gaze. He was a robust giant of a man. Standing taller than most men at 6’6, he was a being of pure muscle, having to have every outfit and suit of armour perfectly tailored for him, else it would break. His hair was short, trimmed all over, left a little longer at the top, naturally standing on its own to make it look like a small wave of gold with streaks of red. His eyes were pitch black, as dark as Anton’s own.

What could be considered a smile formed on Aton’s face, his lips curling ever so slightly upwards, only recognisable to those who knew him. Seeing Cleeve, he could tell he hadn’t changed even with the war, even as his enemy. His cold, chiselled face, handsome yet stern, stared at him, blank of emotion. Dressed in a tight-fitted uniform, Anton recognised the ceremonial uniform, unafraid of any trick, Cleeve knowing that Anton would never do soemthing as low as trick him acorss

Stepping foward, they didn’t break eye contact, the world going silent, bar the wind and splashing of water beneath. Meeting halfway across, Anton held his hand out. "Uncle." His voice was cold. Cleeve looked at the hand for a second before taking it and nodding.

"Anton." His voice was deep, deeper than anyone in the family. Pulling his hand away, Cleeve took a deep breath and looked up. "It is a nice day today."

"It is." Anton followed his gaze, willing to entertain the final moment of peace they would share, knowing it would come to an end. "Did you get my letter?" Cleeve shook his head.

"I have been constantly moving. Unfortunately, I was not in a position to get letters until I took up my post here."

"I see." Anton looked back down, meeting Cleeve’s gaze. "How are your children? Did they return?"

"I haven’t heard from them in years," Cleeve said without a flicker of emotion. "Ester told me they sent a letter from Oros to her. Apparently they have taken up refuge in the Old Kingdom. That was a year ago. They renounced all claims to the throne and family, having given up our name."

"I see." Anton nodded to himself. "Then there was no need for you to read the letter."

"How is Karina?" Cleeve asked.

"She is a good woman. I saw her worry, but she saw me off with a smile. Your wife?"

"I don’t know. I haven’t spoken to her since the children left." Anton nodded, already knowing Cleeve’s failure of a marriage. The two fell silent, having exhausted all topics they could think to talk about. "I assume you haven’t come to surrender?" Cleeve asked, making Anton shake his head. "I see."

"I will offer a final mercy to you, Cleeve. Surrender and renounce your claims. Your life shall be spared, but you will be banished." Cleeve finally showed emotion, smirking at the offer. There was no need to hear the answer; Anton already knew.

"I have orders, Anton. Hold the Waterway." Cleeve took a deep breath, silence filling the air once again, as a gust of wind flew past. "I’m sure you understand."

"Of course. Duty is all that matters. You must understand why I am doing this." Cleeve nodded. For a moment his gaze changed, the calmness in it breaking.

"Anton. What will happen with Ester should you win?" Anton looked at him, making sure to stare into his eyes.

"She has rebelled against me, Cleeve. I do not act out of hate nor anger, but simple duty. I must protect my throne and Elias’ future. I will offer her what I offered you, but she is a stubborn woman, more than you. We both know what I will do." Cleeve lowered his head, his fist curling in anger for a moment before relaxing, alongside a deep breath.

"I understand." Letting out a short, deep chuckle, he shook his head. "We came into this world together, Anton. You know we used to joke that we would leave it together." Pinching the bridge of his nose, he let out a regretful sigh. "That stupid girl will likely follow me into death should I fall here."

Anton laughed. A genuine laugh that came from his soul. It was only a few seconds long, but it surprised Cleeve, unable to believe his nephew could laugh like that, forgetting the last time he had. "Forgive me." His face turned back to its normal blank expression in an instant. "I just remembered the time you two pretended to be the other. Truly, you two have always been one."

"It would be a shame for me to leave her then," Cleeve replied, making Anton nod.

"A shame indeed." Looking back up to the sky, Anton carried on, his tone slightly remorseful, "You know I always felt guilty when you never got the credit you deserved after the Desert Uprising. All told my story but never yours." Cleeve shook his head.

"I did my duty as you did. Do not feel guilty, for I never once felt spurred." Smiling, Cleeve took a deep breath. "Rather, I felt pride on your behalf. I had wished we could have fought together on those hills" Looking up at the sky, Cleeve sighed, "Is there anything else, or shall we end this farce?"

Anton thought for a moment. It was a rare moment for him, one where he faced an opponent with nothing but reciprocal goodwill, only facing one another because of their duty. It tugged at him and made him wonder one thing, "Why did you side with Brandon? I’m curious."

Cleeve chuckled, a deep, hearty chuckle. "I have no opinion on the matter, Anton. Your kingship, in fact, I believe is completely legal." Anton raised an eyebrow; Cleeve smiled, continuing to look up. "I only act upon my honour and duty. But it does not prioritise the throne. Ester is my sole concern in this life. I swore to myself to protect her as her younger brother." He looked down and met Anton’s gaze. "Ester is terrified of you; she has always been. She puts a brave face on, but I know. You also kicked her out of the palace after becoming King, and she didn’t like that. So she went with Brandon, and I will do my duty." Cleeve’s brows furrowed. "Now that I say it, why did you remove Ester and me from the Palace?"

"Becuase you posed a threat to me." Anton coolly said, "Brandon I can handle; I trust him with my life, even now. If Brandon surrendered and promised not to hurt Elias, I would trust him, even if I knew it would be wrong. But you or Ester I could not. I do not believe either of you would press a claim, but I could not take the risk." Cleeve nodded and looked to the sky. The conversation was over; both knew it. For a moment they stood silently.

"It really is a nice day." Cleeve finally spoke and turned around. "I wish you luck in the battles to come."

"Likewise." Anton turned and signalled his men to begin preparing for a siege. Behind him, he heard the drawbridge rise again.