Heads turned toward the chancellor.
“As Lord Exeter has so clearly pointed out,” Braga replied, “I am the third son of an earl. The church is the preferred refuge when you have no part to play in extending your family’s lineage, and my skills did not match those required for the priesthood. Being a knight of the Nyphron Church was one of the few options that suited my abilities. Seeking to be chief among them is merely the result of my desire to excel.”
“But a sentinel is more than just a senior position,” Simon explained. “The sentinel’s sworn duty—besides keeping the faith pure—is to locate the descendant of the old imperial empire and return him to power. Such an event would require all the kings—including His Majesty—to be stripped of their crowns.” Simon turned to Amrath. “And yet this is the man you chose to put in the kingdom’s highest office. A man who actively sought the job of destroying your throne.”
“Are you accusing me of treason?” Braga asked.
Simon sneered, an expression complemented by his goat’s beard and the way he wore his hair pulled back.
“Careful, Simon,” Leo warned. “You’re about to be challenged to a duel you can’t win.”
Braga glared at Lord Exeter. “I will not stand here and—”
“You will do as you’re commanded by your king—both of you.” Amrath stood up, as did everyone else. He let his voice drop to a growl, which along with his size, beard, and prowess at wrestling had earned him the nickname of the Bear. He wanted the argument to end. After a day of debate, his head was hurting. He paused a moment to see if any fight remained in either. In their silence, he resumed his seat. “I think I’ve had enough for one day. Braga and Leo remain. The rest of you … I’ll see you at the party.”
“I was right about Exeter,” Amrath said.
He was out of his chair now that there was only Braga and Leo. As monarch, whenever he rose so did everyone else, which was one of the reasons he felt trapped by the chair. But Leo ignored formality when the rest were gone, and Braga never sat. He was a strange man, darker skinned than most and possessing the thick black hair common to a southern native from Maranon. They were almost as dark as Calians down that way, especially along the coast. Braga was swarthy, handsome, and always moving. Just watching him tired the king. By contrast Leo was relaxed and comfortable. He rocked back in his seat and put his feet on the table, boots clicking to a tune in his head. Dear Maribor, how he loved Leo. Amrath would have gone insane by now if not for that man.
“Are you speaking to me or Percy?” Leo asked.
“Both of you.”
“He wants my job,” Braga said.
“If only that were the case,” Amrath replied. “The problem is that he wants my job. He just can’t figure a way to get it. You’re just this season’s target.”
“Should I resign? It’s not like I have been in this position long. I’ve hardly—”
“No!” Amrath and Leo responded together.
“But Lord Exeter made a good point.” Braga motioned toward Leo. “Count Pickering holds your confidence. He should be chancellor.”
Amrath gazed out the window. He often wandered the room without thought or pattern but always found himself at the window, drawn by the fresh air and open sky. “That’s not possible. You see, that’s the problem with Simon—though he can be a piss pot, he’s also usually right. It’s what makes him such a problem.” Outside, the king spotted the apple merchant, wheeling his cart out the main gate and returning to Gentry Square. What must life be like for such a man? A man with no worries or concerns. A man whose cousins don’t conspire against him? “So, yes, I would love to make Leo chancellor, but I can’t because, as Simon pointed out, there is the little issue of favoritism. Everyone knows we’re close. Leo holds the wealthiest province in Melengar, and we aren’t related, not even by marriage. If I gave him an office, the nobles would—” Amrath threw his hands up in a frustration that he lacked words to express. Being king was supposed to mean—should mean—that he could do as he wished. The truth of the matter was that his life was just a little short of imprisoned servitude to power-hungry nobles. The emperor of the ancient Novronian Empire had it easy—he was a god and ruled without reproach. “Why, I can’t even name him treasurer or keeper of the privy seal, much less chancellor!”
“So why didn’t you name Lord Exeter as chancellor? He is your cousin and, unless I’m wrong, next in line to the throne after your own children, yes?”
Leo chuckled. “You’re absolutely right.”
“Two reasons,” Amrath said, turning and bending back a finger. “First is his obsessive hatred of Imperialists. The man thinks that anyone who believes in the Heir of Novron or supports the Nyphron Church is his mortal enemy. Being a reigning king, I’d like to see this fantasy of a restored empire fade away, too, and a man with Exeter’s views is good to have around. My forefathers waged wars to make Melengar a free and independent kingdom. My crown was won by spilling rivers of blood, and the idea that the Imperialists will one day find the lost heir and everyone will just take a knee to him is … well, it’s offensive, damn it! The church continues to promote this poisonous myth. Now it appears Warric is slipping into their twisted mentality. And if the most powerful kingdom in Avryn can succumb to this insanity, anyone can. Fact is, I agree with Simon. I just can’t afford to make enemies of Clovis or his son.”
“And the other?” Braga asked.
“The other what?” The king looked back and forth between the two.
“The other reason you can’t appoint Simon as chancellor,” Leo reminded him.
“Oh.” The king presented Braga with a wry smile. “Because I hate him. That’s why he’s such a pain. He really can’t get in any worse with his king. So he needles me and revels in his position of being one of the most powerful and disliked nobles in the realm. Worst thing about it is,” Amrath grumbled as he looked back out the window, “if I were to get into a scuffle with Warric, there are no two men I’d rather have at my side than Leo and Simon. It’s true that he hates me. Nothing personal—he just hates everyone, really. I’ve never met a more disagreeable codpiece. But he loves the kingdom. And while he may be misguided, arrogant, and ambitious beyond reason, he’s also tireless in his efforts to keep Melengar safe. That is why I appointed him lord high constable. I imagine there was a mass exodus of thieves and cutthroats the day of that announcement. But don’t worry, once you get to know Simon better, you’ll learn to truly despise him the way Leo and I do.”
“I’m just not certain I’m right for this job,” Braga said. “I’m not native to the kingdom, and as he said, I was a knight of the Church of Nyphron.”
“Which, if you take politics out of it, is a true achievement,” Leo pointed out. “The seret’s reputation for excellence is well known.”
“Still, I’ve only been here a year—”
“Percy,” the king said in a gentle voice. “When you married Clare, you became family.”
“Blood is thicker than paper,” Braga challenged.
“You’re assuming Simon has blood. We haven’t yet determined if he even has a heart,” Leo said. “But you’re right, and while I find you more appealing than Lord Exeter, it is because of his lineage that I, and the rest of the nobles, would back him should something happen to the Bear and his family.” Leo made a show of shivering. “Stay healthy, Your Majesty.”
The king smirked. “Yeah, that’s why I won’t die, because I don’t wish to inconvenience you.”
“I’ll take that as a promise.”
Braga looked down at the chain as if it had gained weight.