Waktu

Freyr watched with terror as Macha's eyes closed as they entered the palace gates. He shook her delicate shoulder, "Please, wake up. Macha. Macha!" No matter how much he called her name, she did not stir.

As his carriage sped through the gates, the palace staff could tell something was wrong. The King never flew onto the property like that. As the carriage came to a halt, his medics were already making their way down the stairs. The King's advisors scampered behind them.

Freyr gathered Macha in his arms and ran towards his Cardinal Mage, Gwydion. Only a few minutes had passed since she received the wound, so he felt certain that someone laced the arrow with poison. "I need you to put her in a stasis. I think she was poisoned," he ordered desperately.

"What happened?" Gwydion demanded, his long orange hair blew in the wind. Earlier he and the other advisors pleaded with the King to celebrate at the palace instead of going out to the restaurant. He was angry that Freyr refused, claiming that he wanted to experience the atmosphere with Macha at the establishment.

"Gwydion, I shall explain later. Do it, now!" his voice sounded raw with emotion. Every second that passed was precious time being wasted. If they did not hurry, he was unsure if they could save her. They needed to find out what poison affected her.

The mage looked for something to act as a focus for the spell. He saw the blue violet boutonniere fastened to Freyr's jacket. He took it and placed it between his hands, closing his green eyes, he recited the spell.

When he was done, he pinned it onto the collar of Macha's dress. "Quickly, take her to her room. When you lay her down, the word to activate it is 𝘸𝘢𝘬𝘵𝘶."

Freyr never redecorated the bedroom that Macha stayed in when she lived at the castle. He wanted to keep it for her in case she ever needed to sleep over or decided to come back. Keeping her room that way had not been an inconvenience because he had more rooms than he knew what to do with.

Freyr rushed through the halls, not stopping to speak with anyone. Upon entering her room, he gently placed her on to the bed. He choked out the magical word, "𝘞𝘢𝘬𝘵𝘶."

Macha's body was encased in a silvery light and time appeared to stop within the encasement. Small particles of dust hovered in the air above her and she did not seem to breathe.

This was a spell they used once before on him during the war. He had almost died, but luckily Gwydion was close by. The damage he sustained had been critical, but thanks to the spell the medics could heal him completely.

The Cardinal Mage walked into the room, wanting to make sure the focus worked. He looked at the King who knelt by the bedside. In a pointed voice, he commented, "I told you not to eat out. Why did you have to be so stubborn? That's why you have advisors, so you can listen to them."

Hearing those words, felt like a cold dagger twisting in Freyr's heart. He swallowed his agony and stood up, squaring his shoulders, he stated, "If I listened to advisors for everything, why am I even King? Just let Marseille become a democracy, or oligarchy, or whatever else those they deem fit."

A few medics ran into the room. They had chased after the King as soon as he sped off with Macha. They had noticed he was injured and desperately wanted to heal the wound on his chest. As they surrounded him, he continued.

"Day in and day out I read documents or confine myself to the palace. Sometimes I just want to go out and eat at a restaurant like a normal person." He began to pace the room, the medics shuffled along as he moved, trying their best to do their work.

He pointed at Gwydion and raised his voice, "Furthermore, a King should interact with the people and experience the things they do. I 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 to visit the other sectors and meet the populace. I do not think it is healthy to be locked away. If this goes on much longer, I will become unsympathetic to the lives of our citizens!"

Gwydion did not like the avenues that the King's mind began to roam. They had gone on fine for hundreds of years with Freyr being mostly confined to the palace. Only recently has he showed an active interest to get out of the place and wander around.

All the advisors agreed that keeping him just informed enough to run the country was best. It allowed each of them to fulfill their job easily, without interference. If Freyr did not see all the dilemmas, then their work would be smoother.

They also understood that he overworked himself. There were not enough hours in a day for him to sort through all the issues. That was one reason some of them implored him to get married.

Trying to calm the King down, he raised his palms in a non-threatening manner. "Please, settle down. The spell will keep her safe until we figure out what's wrong. You have the best medics here, so you need not worry. Your Majesty, please sit down so they can heal you. Macha would not want to see you like this."

Freyr ran his hands through his hair. He realized this whole problem was because he wanted to find out what the White Rabbit was like. A few weeks ago, Macha mentioned how much she enjoyed the atmosphere. It made him desperately curious to visit the sort of place that would pique her interest.

He sat at the edge of the bed, just out of the spell's barrier. His eyes gazed upon her sleeping face, "I'm sorry. I'll fix this. Promise." Now he did not move, allowing the medics to do their job. As they worked, he mentally apologized to Tyr for endangering her.

A couple of hours later, Sierra walked into the room. Freyr sat alone in the bedroom, staring at Macha. The Sathar caught the assassin and were able to save the man's life before the poison he ingested took effect. Now they were using magic to sort through his memories.

She bowed, "Your Majesty, we caught the assassin."

Freyr's head turned to glance at his old friend. He appeared drained and lacked his amiable aura. "All right," he responded, his voice sounding hollow." After that, he continued to watch Macha. There was nothing more he could do and needed to wait for his people to figure out more information.

Realizing that he wanted to be alone, Sierra left and shut the door quietly. Earlier, Gwydion had informed her of what Freyr had said. She did not see a problem with the King going out and meeting the citizens but now was not the best time. She already suspected which family was behind this attack, but until there was proof, she would not reveal anything.

When she went through the secret passageway down in the palace's prison, she met with Alcinous, the head of the Sathar. His amber eyes narrowed when he saw her. It annoyed him that she even let the King go out tonight. "Well, what did he say?" he inquired in a clipped tone.

"He didn't really respond. He's upset that she got hurt," Sierra replied. Freyr's feelings for Macha were no mystery to her, so she understood his mood right now.

Alcinous crossed his arms. Behind him, one of his grandchildren continued to search through the assassin's memories. "You better hope you get to keep your job. If that woman didn't get in the way, the King would have died. The ammo this asshole carried had piercing arrowheads on them. Even after going through Macha and the King's onetime spell armor, he still received a minor wound."

Sierra clenched her jaw. She agreed to let Freyr do as he pleased tonight. For the past year, he either stayed in the palace or at the headquarters of the Obsidian Dragons. She felt he was becoming stir crazy and wanted to give him a night to relax. Now, she could not say anything and regretted her decision. She should have been firmer and denied his request. She should have said he could only visit the restaurant after they discovered who was the fanning the flames behind the noble's displeasure.