Crowning Deal

Using the excuse of recuperating from using mana, Veridin wrote letters during his rest. He was only able to gain two days of solitude before he was forced to leave his tent. He had to deal with the aftermath as temporary commander. Veridin squinted his eyes as he stepped out for the first time in two days.

The smell of rain hung heavy in the air. The sky was a light gray and cold air swept through the camp. The muddy ground made squelching noises beneath his boots as he walked towards one of the knights he recognized from the meeting two days ago. The knight was commanding people to bring injured soldiers to the makeshift infirmary. Upon Veridin's approach, the knight saluted.

"There's still this many injured soldiers?" Veridin watched as people passed by carrying medical supplies and patients.

"Yes… We sustained heavy injuries in our retreat," The knight lowered his head. "It's a miracle that it rained, but at the same time there are a lot more sword injuries. Even Sir Rowan–"

Veridin held his hand up. "Is there someone uninjured who can send a message? I need two people."

"There are a few. In fact–"

The knight called out to a soldier that was frantically carrying medical supplies back and forth. The soldier quickly ran up to them, breathless, and saluted. Veridin's eyebrow raised while he looked the young man up and down. He had frizzy brown hair, was shaking all over, and his deep brown eyes were filled with an unshakeable fear. He looked like a puppy that had been abandoned on the streets. Veridin let out a soft sigh. He'd have to work.

"G-Galwund greets Knight Commander Veridin! Did–did you need something from me?"

"I need you to deliver a message for me," Veridin handed Galwund a scroll wrapped in a simple string of twine. "I need you to deliver this across the battlefield. Can you do that?"

Galwund stuttered, "Across the battlefield?"

"Yes, but don't worry," Veridin turned to the knight, "Hand me a pole."

Confused, the knight obliged. Veridin turned the stick over in his hand before nodding. He reached over his back and ripped the stained white cape off of his armor, to the soldiers' horror. He quickly tied the black and white cape around the end of the stick and handed it to Galwund.

"Carry that with you across the battlefield. You won't get attacked then."

Every soldier who witnessed the scene stared at the makeshift flag in Galwund's hand. The white cape that had once been a symbol of the church was spotted red and black, and wrapped around a stick. The meaning of the flag was clear to them: The loss of the Commander had led to the desire to end the war, even if it meant forgiving generations of grudges. Even Galwund stared at the flag in his hands, astonished. He looked up at Veridin and saw the flickering grief behind those still violet eyes, like fish beneath the surface of a lake. He gathered himself together and saluted once more.

"I'll do it sir."

Veridin's expression remained still. Where did this sudden bravery come from? It didn't really matter. "Make sure you return with a response. You're dismissed."

"I will!" He rushed off, flag in hand.

"Now then," Veridin turned back to the knight, "I'll send one of my attendants with the other message."

"Understood sir. If I may ask, why did you tear off your cape?"

Veridin smiled, "Where else would we find a more adequate flag?"

The knight swallowed his words as Veridin walked away. It made no difference, in fact it made complete sense, so why did his smile seem so strange? He shook his head. Captain was surely thinking about a mess of things. The knight thought about the young soldier, Galwund, respectfully. He also vowed in his heart to follow the captain.

Veridin shivered as he handed the second letter off to one of the priests, instructing them to rush to the capital as soon as possible. He rubbed the back of his neck and thought it was strange. He didn't feel the cold, so was something going to happen with the priest? He knew they would report the contents of the letter to the High Priest so he deliberately pointed all the blame at the viscount. There was no way his majesty would care much anyway. Veridin thought about it more on the way back to his tent.

He stood in the middle of his tent and mindlessly paced back and forth. Who was the person that sent the traitor? There weren't any clues except the fact they were determined to get rid of the commander and Viscount Brandy. Veridin furrowed his brows. This was the first time he felt frustrated at the unknown. He needed more information, to make whoever it was pay. His eyes settled on the maroon book on his bed as he stopped pacing. He picked up the book and ran his hands over the cover. Flipping through the pages, he found the page he was looking for.

The book in his hands was simple on the outside. It had a deep red cover with no words on it and no embellishment. The title of the book was on the first page instead. And the title of the book in his hands right now, was simply "Deflowered." Behind the cover held pages full of obscenities so questionable that it was a wonder the author didn't have their hands cut off. It was one of his favorite books he had read so far, but had yet to finish. He silently re-read the lines of the page he had turned to;

"How did you know I was planning to leave the capital?" She asked while backing away from him.

"Don't you know who I am by now? I have eyes and ears everywhere." He grabbed her wrist, pulling her into him. "You can't escape from me, no matter how hard you try."

"Your majesty, let go of me!" Her pointless flailing only left a darker red mark on her pale wrist. "I already refused you once! Let go!"

Veridin closed the book. The perfect solution to everything. He laughed and ran his hand through his hair slowly. Why hadn't he thought of it before? An untouchable position, where no one would dare to do anything to him: A king. The only issue would be the existing king. Though, that really wouldn't be more than a minor inconvenience. Verdin took a step forward, the mud on his boots disappearing as he stepped onto the soft carpet of the imperial palace.

He stood in front of the gilded white door, listening to the murmuring behind the door with a devious expression. Never once had he been so grateful to this self-indulgent king. He knocked softly on the door.

"More wine, your majesty?"

"Come in!" A scruffy voice rose up from behind the door.

Veridin walked into the room confidently. With a smile he watched the look on the pig's face twist in horror. The two ladies clinging to his majesty looked at Veridin astonished as well. The stench of perfume and wine assaulted Veridin's nose but he kept a smile.

"Greetings, your majesty." Veridin bowed, but even with his head lowered a feeling of oppression bore down on the three. His smile made his expression even more unsettling.

"You–! Why, no, how are you here?!"

Veridin glanced at the two women, making them shiver in unease, "I apologize, but I'm here to talk to you privately, your majesty."

"You aren't eligible to ask me for a private audience!"

Veridin sighed. In a sense, a king was still a king. "I believe my title as Hero is more than enough for that, isn't it?"

"That's enough from you! You should be on the front lines. If you don't leave this instant, I'll call the guards!"

Veridin softened his smile, speaking low, "Your majesty. I'm being civil here. If you don't want to lose something today, I suggest you dismiss them."

"You have no power to order me–"

"Your majesty," He took a step forward, eyes glistening under the red light, "I was never asking."

The two ladies jumped off of the sofa and scrambled out of the room without the king saying another word. Deston the IV sat there, dumbfounded. His heart began to race, as if he was being scolded by his father again. He swallowed hard while watching the two women disappear behind the door. Veridin spoke first, forgoing all etiquette.

"Your majesty, I'm here to make a deal with you."

"A… Deal?" The words made the hairs on Deston's neck stand up. Veridin's piercing gaze and presence was making his knees weak. He was thankful that he was sitting down.

"That's right. I want you to abdicate the throne to me." Veridin watched the king struggle for a moment. "Of course I won't ask you to do that for nothing. If you give the throne to me, I'll provide you with enough money to play for the rest of your life."

"Ha! If I were swayed by just that, I would have given up the throne long ago!"

"I know that." Those words caused Deston to tense up. "I hear that… The demons have a specialty wine they only sell in their capital. I'm going to end this war, and when I do I promise you an endless supply of that wine."

Veridin was blatantly throwing out bait, but he knew that the king wouldn't be able to resist. He didn't know if his own words were true or not, but neither would the king. Deston slowly scratched his chin. Veridin grinned. Just one more push.

"Of course, you won't have to lift a finger. I'd never treat the former king terribly. As long as you provide me with the people and position, I'll take care of everything. You just have to hand the throne over to me."

Veridin placed his hand on his chest, speaking wholeheartedly. It was only his eyes that betrayed the fangs he was hiding. Deston looked at Veridin's sharp violet eyes and flinched. A devil. He was about to make a deal with a devil. And that devil was about to swallow the Empire whole. However, he alone was being offered sanctuary. He smiled, pushing down his nervousness.

"Alright. I'll leave it all to you. Remember your words, Hero."

"Of course, your majesty." Veridin had gotten what he wanted. Of course he would remember his words. To let this self destructive king leach off of the treasury for the rest of his life, would only mean that his life had been cut incredibly short. For now, the king had to be left alive until the coronation. "On that note, please approve of me being your representative in signing a peace treaty with the demons."

"Yes, yes, of course!" Deston waved his hand leisurely, beckoning for a piece of paper. "If that's all you need from me."

Veridin calmly handed him a paper and feathered pen. He placed the inkwell on the table beside the sofa before the king dipped into it. "I do have one more thing I need, your majesty. If you could, keep this deal a secret between us?"

Deston paused. He looked at Veridin's smiling expression, and it was obvious that wasn't a question. He cleared his throat. "Of course. I'll abdicate the throne to you under the guise of having ended this war peacefully."

"Thank you, your majesty. I'll take my leave now."

Veridin took the paper from him and bowed. Deston the IV nodded nervously before Veridin turned around and left. Once Veridin had disappeared from his sight, the two women peaked their heads back in. They hurried over to the king's side as he leaned over, cold sweat beading on his forehead.

"What kind of monster did I allow to be raised in my kingdom…?" He leaned back and sighed. "At least it was a favorable agreement."