>>5708370“We must confront Prince Rufos directly,” decides Sir Ewald.
“But if he’s been compromised as well…”
Ewald puts up a hand to stop Marzineo.
“Then we will deal with that as it comes, with the grace of the Gods Above.”
He senses Marzineo’s displeasure, and so he explains himself more fully:
“We are the Paladin Order of Hawksong, founded by the first Paladin King to serve and protect his legacy: the Pax Ferrum, or Pax Argentum; the Great Peace of Iron and Silver. If we go against this central tenet, it must not be for expediency. We must TRY to keep our vows of fealty and loyalty, of law and of order, and put forth every effort to do so. It is at the HEART of what it means to be a true paladin.”
“Yes, sir!” exclaims young Sir Marzineo.
“Good man,” Sir Ewald says with a tight smile. “And anyway, we can always ask Paladin King Archos to step in. NO fiend can ever compromise the true heart of the Paladin King.”
---
“The King is dead.”
The words, spoken by Prince Rufos, hit Sir Ewald like a mace caving in his chestplate. The wind is knocked from his lungs. He cannot speak for a moment, even to explain the nature of his visit. It is good, then, that Sir Marzineo is there as well: he is quiet by choice, yes, but never speechless.
“My condolences, your majesty,” he says, and then after a moment: “Long live King Alexos.”
Ewald stares wide-eyed at Marzineo for a moment, but then narrows his eyes and allows his gaze to drift back to Prince Rufos, who has not yet replied, and who grips the edge of his desk white-knuckled, face pale.
“Yes, long live the king” Sir Ewald agrees softly. “Will he be returning to Hawksong for the funeral and coronation shortly, then? With everything that ahs been going on, we must display strength now, and unity.”
The Secondborn Prince says nothing. Colour returns to his complexion, his yes draw narrow as well, and he takes a deep breath through his nose.
“Perhaps, under the circumstances, it may be best to cut short the Princess’ extended honeymoon with Prince Long Wang, as well?”
Prince Rufos says nothing, but abruptly, slides open a drawer of his desk. Both paladins exchange a wordless look and move their hands towards their weapons… But there is no need, it seems. Not yet. The Prince of Hawksong produces a glass and decanter, full of a rich yellow-gold alcohol.
“Will you partake, gentlemen?”
“A paladin keeps his mind sound, and body safe,” Sir Ewald declines. “To better resist corruptions, from within and without.”
“I hope you’ll forgive me a little corruption, then,” Prince Rufos says dryly, “under the circumstances.”
Ewald does not nod, nor does Marzineo, but Rufos pours and drinks of the spirit regardless.
“A father’s death is a hard thing to reconcile with,” Sir Ewald acknowledges. “My own passed when I was just a lad.”
“Not just a father’s."
