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The wolf's head ring... (TS_8)

Updated: Apr 29


Steven

Dithune

________________


The apartment was quiet as I stepped in, the clock nearing 9 pm. Good thing I got to know her Guard right after we met, otherwise I probably wouldn’t be able to leave a message for her. Along with a glass on the table, filled with a vibrant blue drink, next to a note I had written on a paper with a lion’s crest at the top -the Hales just love the little details.


You know where to find me when you’re ready to talk.

-S. A. S.

PS. I hope you don't mind an Athran drink.


My apartment still felt new, unfamiliar. The modern, dark decor was incredible compared to the space I was used to. The vast windows framed the snowy Arlintanga peaks, a view that never ceased to amaze me. The vibrant aquarium added a splash of life to the otherwise strangely deserted surroundings. Who thought this would be my preferred style? Everything was meticulously placed, devoid of personal touches, a reflection of the recent move and the new chapter it represented.

I sat at my desk, surrounded by minimal clutter, focusing on my writing. I knew what I agreed to, but damn… My desk was already full of it. And I was only at number two, when I heard her voice. “You should find a hobby,”



“I had other plans, but your desk’s chaos was a sight to behold,” I quipped, returning to my notes. We both had this habit of working in the living room, a trait we inherited from our fathers.

“Very funny,” she retorted, arms folded, an eyebrow arched. A spectacle gaze upon. “I’m sorry about the dinner, it slipped my mind.”

I could tell she was sorry about missing dinner, but I brushed it off. It was just a dinner. “No worries, I heard about what happened to Jasce,” I said, pausing my work. “Were you there?”

“Yeah, got his blood all over me.” Her confirmation came with a wistful smile. I knew serving on the Council was perilous, but I didn’t expect it to be so literal. I’m not even sure what happened there or how. I tried not to think about her hasten orders and how it spelled danger for us all. I always took these matters to heart, especially when lives were at stake. And I wasn't sure if she shared the same point of view.

“Come here,” I beckoned, stepping back from the table. She approached, stopping just shy of my embrace. I wrapped an arm around her, my touch as light as possible. She was different tonight, distant, lost in her own thoughts. And I couldn't force myself to change it. With my other hand, I signed a contract, my name flourishing where my father’s signature was expected.

“You’re signing for Edgar?” she looked at me, her brow creasing in confusion. It must have seemed like I either held power she didn’t know about, or dad completely lost his mind.

“In a manner of speaking.” I said, snapping the files shut. I cupped her face, my kiss meant to silence the whirlwind of thoughts in her head. I wished I hadn’t pulled away so quickly, but there was still work to be done. Taking a step back, I presented her with a small box. “Will you help me?”

She pulled out the ring, a piece that already belonged to me yet unfamiliar to her. The thick silver band and dark blue stone were the same, but the familiar initial was replaced by wolf’s head, a longsword etched behind it, the intricate details and triangles completing the design. “Damn,” she exhaled.

“What is it?”

“I bet Marcus Edgar wouldn’t go through with it,” she admitted, locking eyes with me.

“And why’s that,”

“Because Jonathan wouldn’t take the bet about his best buddy, and my usual partner in crime is off to Eagaveli, lost beneath his mistresses’ veils,” she laughed. I just rolled my eyes. Her attention returned to the ring. “Are you sure this is what you want?”

“I don’t think want is the right term -it’s my duty,” I clarified.

She sighed, her words heavy with concern. “You’re young, you still have choices. Are you sure you want this for the rest of your life? Because once you take this path, there’s no easy return. Beyond the contracts and meetings, it’s a role mired in chaos, even absent war. Lives will end on your command. Are you prepared for the bloodshed in your name?”

“The bloodshed in my name doesn’t need the crown,” my smile tinged with irony. I knew the weight of what lay ahead.

“I suppose… congratulations are in order, Your Majesty.” she said, bowing deeply, her smile hidden.

I took a deep breath, I didn’t like that one bit. “I should be grateful, but the title… it doesn’t sound right,” I admitted, running a hand through my hair as I moved towards the sofa.

“The title, or my intonation?” she wondered aloud.

“Both, I suppose.”

“When’s the coronation?” she asked, following me.

“In four days. There’s,”

“Four days!?” she exclaimed, the brevity of the notice caught her off guard. I shared some of that, Athran customs for this occasion were a mystery even to me, with me being the first Steeles’ heir, anything could pop up and became the new tradition. “That’s hardly any time at all.”

“Indeed,”

I pondered my father's sudden urgency. His reign has spawned over a century and half, and his recent actions were out of character. Could really one vision drive him to all of this? Was I the only one who found it odd? “First the ring then.” she mumbled. Hypnotising the ring, the wolf's gaze focused on her. “I preferred your old ring.” she admitted.

“It’s of little consequence to me. Father’s insistence was unexpected, though.” I said, offering her a glass of wine in a silent toast. I took a sip, but the flavour hardly mattered.

“Edgar's trust has been hard-earned when I bind his ring - such scepticism.” she mused, then looked at me intently. “But you trust me, don't you?”

“Do I have a choice?” I replied with a light laugh, the sound mingling with a cling of our glasses set on the table. The room's dark furnishings with vibrant drapes slowly grew on me.

“You’ll always have a choice; you’re a king,” she reminded me, and I couldn’t help but flinch at the title. “The only exception is -of course- a direct order from Hallies’ Heir, but we wouldn’t impose that on you. We allowed your predecessor his freedom.”

“How well do you know him?” I asked more than curious about her relationship with my father.

“Edgar?” I nodded. “Well enough to anticipate his moves, or so I thought. But lately, he’s been-”

“He’s lost his way,” I interjected, sudden clarity hitting me.

“Perhaps. He immersed himself in his pursuits, always has. Jon says he’s buried in ancient texts. But on the scale of his craziness, it’s really nothing.” She knew my father longer, there's no question, but did she know him better than I did? “What do you know about the ritual?”

“The ring binds to my blood, making it traceable if lost or stolen. It ensures that someone like you can find me.” I explained. It seemed pretty straight forward.

“That’s part of it,” she half nodded. “But I asked about the spell itself.”

“If I knew the spell, I’d perform it,” I said, a hint of melancholy in my voice. Thinking of the weight crown and responsibilities it entailed.

“Even if you could decipher the runes, understanding their essence is the key.” she placed the ring on a cushion between us. I watched, fascinated, as she conjured runes -explaining they represented time, man, blood and place, suspended in a golden shimmer. The ring levitated, spinning, as a silver thorn materialised on the cushion. “Give me your hand, please.”

I hesitated, pretty sure I knew what would follow, then extended my right hand. She traced my skin with her fingertips, then grasped the thorn and pressed its point into my finger, pierced the skin and divided it into the soft flesh. I winced but held back any curse.

“Sorry,” she murmured, withdrawing the now crimson-stained thorn, which vanished like mist. The runes flared, coalescing into a wolf and sword before fading away.

The ring settled back onto the cushion, a bead emerging from the puncture on my finger. It wasn’t serious and I could hardly feel the pain, but she healed it swiftly, the blood disappearing in an instant. She handed me the ring. “Is that all?”

“Did you expect me to open your veins and drink from it?” she joked, slipping the ring onto my finger.

“A bit,” I admitted, adjusting the ring. “How can I ever repay you?” My smile was private, meant only for her. It made me wonder about my guarded nature in public. She never cared about the people around us. Was it just the age, or something else? Should I stop caring?

She discarded the pillow to the floor, and rested her head on my lap, the proximity sharpening the ache of her absence. The time without her dragged on. Even more so after hearing the news. How did she even get there? Was she in any danger? Should I get invested? It wasn’t my business, but I needed her to be safe.

Did she see the fragility of life the same way I did? A single misstep, a moment’s bad luck, and life could end. The knowledge of the finality of death weighed on me with every breath, every move.

I haven’t even started this job and my life was already on the line -it was probably since the day I was born, but now it dawned on me. All I could do was delay ageing a little, but the danger would always loom. One day, death will claim me. So many pleasant thoughts…

“What’s on your mind?” I slowly touched her arm, I didn’t mean to scare her, but I probably did anyway.

“You’re ageing,” she said, meeting my gaze. What are the odds -but, the thought is inevitable, wrinkles and age-related ailments were of the things my guards have no power on.  Andrea reached for her glass, silencing her words in the dark liquid.

Our time was getting out of hand, so I started laughing. “Should you be the one worrying about age? My age has only two digits.”

“Yeah, numbers on a piece of paper are exactly what bothers me,” she retorted. It wasn’t like I was going to disappear in the next hour. On the other hand, the myriad of dangers she faced made my stomach churn.

“Right, dinner awaits.” I declared, pulling her toward the kitchen. Her feeble protests of disinterest lost in my determination.


In the North, culinary creations were notorious for their tongue-twisting names and less-than-inviting looks. Thankfully, my Southern culinary education meant that, despite Athran monikers and ingredients, the dishes I crafted were a feast for the eyes, hopefully the soul and full of fresh vegetables she preferred.

But I don’t think the array of vegetables did anything for her. She just sits across the table, overshadowed by thought and after the whole day, I couldn’t blame her. Enemies are no rarity in her family, but why would anyone attack Jasce?

I had to change the subject, something as mundane as my day could do the trick. “An!” After a solid five minutes I had to get her attention. “Are you with me?”

“What’s the deal with blue steel prices?” she asked, dissecting tomato with more care than necessary.

I chuckled, having zero clue where her thoughts were. A wave of my hand brought the wine glasses to the table. “You want to talk about work?”

“Why the hike? Nothing changed,” she pressed, ignoring my question. I had to admit hers was a lot more important. I’ve been over it many times already and it still feels like a good decision. “Ed has no right,”

“Father’s been held up in the Study. Market prices are the least of his concerns.”

“So it’s you…” she mused aloud, setting aside her fork to take a sip. If I was gonna take a guess, I’d said she’s pissed. “Prices don’t just inflate without a cause.”

I matched my drink. “Really?” the food on my plate lost my interest. “You’re using it for new armaments.” it was literally the only condition anyone ever cared about.

“That’s always been the cause. Athran receives its share of weapons and trained soldiers in return. That’s the whole point of the contract.” she retorted, though the argument feels hollow. It felt like she didn’t register the change. Like she had no idea what’s going on over the Nerkam border.

“Yet, no new weapons have been delivered,” I countered, narrowing my eyes. “You need to pay just a fragment of the price for as long as you deliver weapons back. You’re violating the agreement.”

“And the soldiers?” she challenged, I shook my head. Her frustration boiled over into a clenched fist against the table. Part of me realised how strange that is, the other wanted more of her without the stupid calm pretence. “Have you report,”

“Wouldn’t even think of it.” I smirked. “An, listen to me, it’s all taken care of. You’re moving all the meetings to Nerkam and things are about as crazy here with father abdication. I filled all the papers for Jasce and as soon as the new member is elected,”

This time it wasn’t a fist. Her chair headed for the ground as she abruptly stood up. “I’m nor hungry.” she said, her voice full of cold disbelief.

“Andrea?” I went to her, putting my hand lightly on her shoulder. In the next second she was in my arms, seeking refuge in the comfort of my sweater. “What’s going on?”

“The Council is a small group with vast influence, capable of fracturing my nation with a word. And yet, I hadn’t seen the cracks forming until now.” she whispered.

“Don’t dwell on it,” I insisted, gently coaxing her gaze with mine. “Not after everything that’s happened today. We’ll tackle it together in the morning.” all I could offer was a promise she won’t be alone. A promise there’s the ‘us’ she could rely on.

She let me lift her, carry her away from the chaos of the world and into the sanctuary of my bed.




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