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Jalapenohitchhiker
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At least there was someone who believed Avram could make a good king, though he had yet to see evidence of that himself. Still, Myla's optimism was comforting despite the fact that he was distraught by the idea of her leaving. "I will do my best to see this kingdom reunited." Her hands still felt warm and inviting, and though they were too small to fully enclose his it was wonderful feeling all the same. Parting was not easy to swallow, but finally they separated for what would be the last time. Their eyes met as she stood in the doorway, a split second that could have lasted a lifetime, and just like that she was gone. Avram rubbed his forehead and squinted out into the darkness. The sun would be coming up within a couple of hours, but he did not have the will to go about his duties today. He would have curled up into a ball and wept for the lost love that he could not have. Better yet, he would have packed some travel clothes and set off after her. "If only," he sighed and threw on a plain tunic. It would do for now, but he would be required to put on something more elegant for his crowning as well as his father's funeral. Lyanna would likely be there by his side through the ordeal, though it would not be of her own will. An apology was the least he could do for her. His wedding gift would have to be spectacular if he wished to regain her trust, assuming he ever had it to begin with. Did he really even want it? She was not Myla. But she was the woman he would be seeing every day for the rest of his life. It was past time he accepted that.
A knock at the door interrupted Avram's thoughts. "Enter," he said sullenly as he laced his breeches up. Yaryk entered and looked him up and down with a speculating glance. "You wished to see me, my lord?" Avram had already thought about what he was going to ask him. As it turned out there was information he needed from the scribe anyway. He was glad he asked the guards to summon him and not someone else. "Have you received any news from your source at Tallarth?" He did not expect there to be anything new. But once they learned of the king's death there would surely be some movement coming from Maryn Lodar's encampments. Shaking his head, Yaryk glanced around them room and he frowned. "You really need to sort through those letters," he stated boldly, eyeing the desk that remained cluttered with numerous scrolls and parchments, all which Avram had read through at least a dozen times over. In voice that was more somber, Yaryk continued while returning his attention to the prince. "I am very sorry for your father's death. We are investigating everyone and everything we have a lead on. Though I must admit, it would be easier to find a needle in a stack of hay." Avram put his hand up and nodded with remorse. "As long as everyone is doing their best to find the culprit I can not be upset. See that everything is set for his funeral." He did not mention the coronation. He could not care if that ceremony lasted only a minute. The shorter the better, because then he would have more time to complete his duties. Yaryk gave him a stiff bow. "As you wish, my lord."
One of the servants came in immediately after Yaryk disappeared down the corridor, replacing the cold wine with a fresh pitcher, steam rising from it and a strong aroma tickling the nostrils. Avram reached for it but found that he could not bring himself to drink this morning, not after what Myla had told him the previous night. Begrudgingly, he set the goblet down and returned to the still open window. A few lights could be seen in the distance, random shops opening up to accommodate the early business hours. The dark of the night made it difficult to make out the walls or gates. Assuming everything went right, Myla would be riding through those gates before the dawn came. "It is for the best," he continued to mutter to himself. "She will be safer this way." Belin arrived a little while later, and by the way he was dressed Avram assumed he was all ready for the coronation, which was hours away yet. "Good morning, my lord," he stated formally with his usual bow. "I hope you are doing well." Avram simply grunted what was meant to be an affirmation, though he was not sure the message came across that way. "I want you to find Lady Mina for me. That is if she is awake. If not then leave her be. I will speak with her when she has the time." As Belin left to fetch Mina, Avram slumped down before his table and began sorting through the papers. It would only take another day or two for it to look a complete mess again.
The morning came as it always did for Ector. Elize was still fast asleep, though her clothes and personals had been packed the night before. They had not agreed to leave today, but plans could change in a heartbeat from his experience. It was best to be prepared for the worst. If for some reason they needed to flee the capital with all haste it could be costly to lose time while packing their belongings. They each only packed a small rucksack and a cloak, along with Ector's sword and knives. A light load would prevent the horses from growing tired too quickly. He did not want to wake the girl just yet. But he also wanted to see Myla's training for himself. If he was going to teach her while on the road it was best for him to get a good idea of where she stood now. Elize would be well taken care of here. The innkeeper was a kindly woman who adored his daughter as if she were her grandchild. She was always happy to keep an eye on the girl whenever Ector had to step away for a while. He had also informed Lord Dremond of his decision to seek another's employment, to which the plump man responded with a mixture of bitterness and intrigue, but he did not make any arguments. In truth Ector cared little for whatever his opinions on the matter were.
It was still dark outside when Ector left the inn. There were hardly any people walking the streets at this hour except for a few merchants opening up their shops and wagons. There was also the occasional city watch patrol that marched by. Ector gave them a friendly salute, but they were either ignored him or were to intent on their duty to notice. The palace gates were already open, and a long line of commoners was already forming to enter the court. It was unlikely that the prince himself would be present there today, not after his father's death. A king whose mind had been less than useful in his final days. It was a tragic tale, but Ector did not expect to lose much sleep over his passing. Were it not for him the Viricof Legion would still be a force today. He ground his teeth at the thought but made himself stop. He was helping Myla Auvery now, which was just as good as being a part of the legion in his mind.
There were guards all over the palace; the watch had been doubled after the king's murder. With their helmets covering their faces, in addition to the lack of light besides the odd torch here and there, he could not tell if Larcin was among the men on duty. He assumed the man would approach if he saw Ector, but none of these guards seemed to pay Ector any mind since he made no attempt to enter the castle walls. The armory itself was bigger than he remembered, but it could have been renovated since his last trip to Sarvayl. The training grounds looked no different, however, and still empty for now. He had half a mind to practice a few swings here himself. If Ser Gerold were up for it he might try a few rounds with the Captain of the Guard himself. It would be a true test of his skills at the very least. The last time he sparred with a true sword master of note was when Ser Walric Dal'fon was the High Commander of the legion. Ector had only just been promoted to Captain when the man insisted on a quick match. And though it was not even close to being a contest, Ser Walric still complimented his opponent's skill with a blade.
"What do you mean she was not in her chambers?" Ser Gerold peered at the four guards before him with a critical eye. "You mean to tell me that you spent the entire night standing before an empty room?" The one at the front of the group spoke first. It was Criston Hasle, a younger man with only a small tuft of hair on his chin. The others had their eyes downcast. "Sorry Captain. When we knocked there was no answer, and we thought she might be asleep." Ser Gerold threw his hands up in disbelief. "So you did not open the door to make sure that was true?" A second guard chimed in. Balwin Guss was older than Criston, though not by much. Next time Gerold would have to make certain that all of the guards he placed in front of Myla's door were veterans. "We thought she might be unclothed or in her shift. It would not be proper, Captain." Standing up, Gerold slapped a mailed fist on the table and growled. "Proper? There are people in this castle who would see her dead, and you want to talk to me of what is proper? She was sleeping in the courtyard..." He took a moment to calm himself and catch his breath. "You are lucky she turned up safely. If anyone harmed her it would be on your heads." Or worse, if she had harmed someone else. But that would not be so. An Auvery would never murder.
A knock at the door interrupted Avram's thoughts. "Enter," he said sullenly as he laced his breeches up. Yaryk entered and looked him up and down with a speculating glance. "You wished to see me, my lord?" Avram had already thought about what he was going to ask him. As it turned out there was information he needed from the scribe anyway. He was glad he asked the guards to summon him and not someone else. "Have you received any news from your source at Tallarth?" He did not expect there to be anything new. But once they learned of the king's death there would surely be some movement coming from Maryn Lodar's encampments. Shaking his head, Yaryk glanced around them room and he frowned. "You really need to sort through those letters," he stated boldly, eyeing the desk that remained cluttered with numerous scrolls and parchments, all which Avram had read through at least a dozen times over. In voice that was more somber, Yaryk continued while returning his attention to the prince. "I am very sorry for your father's death. We are investigating everyone and everything we have a lead on. Though I must admit, it would be easier to find a needle in a stack of hay." Avram put his hand up and nodded with remorse. "As long as everyone is doing their best to find the culprit I can not be upset. See that everything is set for his funeral." He did not mention the coronation. He could not care if that ceremony lasted only a minute. The shorter the better, because then he would have more time to complete his duties. Yaryk gave him a stiff bow. "As you wish, my lord."
One of the servants came in immediately after Yaryk disappeared down the corridor, replacing the cold wine with a fresh pitcher, steam rising from it and a strong aroma tickling the nostrils. Avram reached for it but found that he could not bring himself to drink this morning, not after what Myla had told him the previous night. Begrudgingly, he set the goblet down and returned to the still open window. A few lights could be seen in the distance, random shops opening up to accommodate the early business hours. The dark of the night made it difficult to make out the walls or gates. Assuming everything went right, Myla would be riding through those gates before the dawn came. "It is for the best," he continued to mutter to himself. "She will be safer this way." Belin arrived a little while later, and by the way he was dressed Avram assumed he was all ready for the coronation, which was hours away yet. "Good morning, my lord," he stated formally with his usual bow. "I hope you are doing well." Avram simply grunted what was meant to be an affirmation, though he was not sure the message came across that way. "I want you to find Lady Mina for me. That is if she is awake. If not then leave her be. I will speak with her when she has the time." As Belin left to fetch Mina, Avram slumped down before his table and began sorting through the papers. It would only take another day or two for it to look a complete mess again.
The morning came as it always did for Ector. Elize was still fast asleep, though her clothes and personals had been packed the night before. They had not agreed to leave today, but plans could change in a heartbeat from his experience. It was best to be prepared for the worst. If for some reason they needed to flee the capital with all haste it could be costly to lose time while packing their belongings. They each only packed a small rucksack and a cloak, along with Ector's sword and knives. A light load would prevent the horses from growing tired too quickly. He did not want to wake the girl just yet. But he also wanted to see Myla's training for himself. If he was going to teach her while on the road it was best for him to get a good idea of where she stood now. Elize would be well taken care of here. The innkeeper was a kindly woman who adored his daughter as if she were her grandchild. She was always happy to keep an eye on the girl whenever Ector had to step away for a while. He had also informed Lord Dremond of his decision to seek another's employment, to which the plump man responded with a mixture of bitterness and intrigue, but he did not make any arguments. In truth Ector cared little for whatever his opinions on the matter were.
It was still dark outside when Ector left the inn. There were hardly any people walking the streets at this hour except for a few merchants opening up their shops and wagons. There was also the occasional city watch patrol that marched by. Ector gave them a friendly salute, but they were either ignored him or were to intent on their duty to notice. The palace gates were already open, and a long line of commoners was already forming to enter the court. It was unlikely that the prince himself would be present there today, not after his father's death. A king whose mind had been less than useful in his final days. It was a tragic tale, but Ector did not expect to lose much sleep over his passing. Were it not for him the Viricof Legion would still be a force today. He ground his teeth at the thought but made himself stop. He was helping Myla Auvery now, which was just as good as being a part of the legion in his mind.
There were guards all over the palace; the watch had been doubled after the king's murder. With their helmets covering their faces, in addition to the lack of light besides the odd torch here and there, he could not tell if Larcin was among the men on duty. He assumed the man would approach if he saw Ector, but none of these guards seemed to pay Ector any mind since he made no attempt to enter the castle walls. The armory itself was bigger than he remembered, but it could have been renovated since his last trip to Sarvayl. The training grounds looked no different, however, and still empty for now. He had half a mind to practice a few swings here himself. If Ser Gerold were up for it he might try a few rounds with the Captain of the Guard himself. It would be a true test of his skills at the very least. The last time he sparred with a true sword master of note was when Ser Walric Dal'fon was the High Commander of the legion. Ector had only just been promoted to Captain when the man insisted on a quick match. And though it was not even close to being a contest, Ser Walric still complimented his opponent's skill with a blade.
"What do you mean she was not in her chambers?" Ser Gerold peered at the four guards before him with a critical eye. "You mean to tell me that you spent the entire night standing before an empty room?" The one at the front of the group spoke first. It was Criston Hasle, a younger man with only a small tuft of hair on his chin. The others had their eyes downcast. "Sorry Captain. When we knocked there was no answer, and we thought she might be asleep." Ser Gerold threw his hands up in disbelief. "So you did not open the door to make sure that was true?" A second guard chimed in. Balwin Guss was older than Criston, though not by much. Next time Gerold would have to make certain that all of the guards he placed in front of Myla's door were veterans. "We thought she might be unclothed or in her shift. It would not be proper, Captain." Standing up, Gerold slapped a mailed fist on the table and growled. "Proper? There are people in this castle who would see her dead, and you want to talk to me of what is proper? She was sleeping in the courtyard..." He took a moment to calm himself and catch his breath. "You are lucky she turned up safely. If anyone harmed her it would be on your heads." Or worse, if she had harmed someone else. But that would not be so. An Auvery would never murder.