O
Literature
Old flame Tyrian slouched on the throne, trying to find a position that would better suit his numbed behind. Consulting hours were almost over. It had been quiet; just a few nobles asking if they could raise taxes a little for this project or that, with a clear timeline for the end of the raise. Aurelia had really put an end to the petty squabbles he was used to hearing; it was hard to complain about ‘all these foreigners’ to a foreign-born queen. Her sharp tongue saw off the rest of the foolish demands. He should have married her years ago. Nevertheless, they took turns, and today it was his. Ten minutes to go. The door to the back corridor opened, and out stepped Will. “You’re nearly there,” he said, putting his thumbs in his pockets. “Thought I’d come and keep you company anyway. Wanna go to Kiko’s after?” “Sure.” Tyrian smiled and leaned his chin on his hand. “How was it today?” Will asked. “Sorry I couldn’t be here.” “Will, you are officially not my fool anymore,” Tyrian pointed out. “You’ve got other things to do. You don’t need to be sorry. And it went fine. Had a few perfectly reasonable requests. They want to open their own library over in The Green Woods, and Meadow Bright they’re asking for a plot of land to build a greenhouse and a dormitory. The lady at Shimmering Lake wants to build an... What did she call it... An indoor swimming pool? Somewhere people can swim indoors, where it’s safe. Apparently not all the witches who come here can swim, and she’s got a merrow friend who wants to start giving lessons.” “Oh. I didn’t think of that.” Will pulled a notebook out of one pocket and a pencil from the other. “Swimming pool... Lessons...” He thought for a moment and added a few other notes, before putting the notebook away again. “Think Letitia would be interested in that?” “I can always ask.” Tyrian shifted position again. Five minutes to go. “If she isn’t, I can try Celia.” Will considered this. “I think you might need to have someone with legs rather than a fishtail as a teacher,” he pointed out. “Being a mermaid is cheating, I think.” “True, but I was thinking she could ask her sisters. Some of them have legs. Besides, maybe we could offer tourists a mermaid potion?” Tyrian suggested. “Even if they know how to swim with legs, doesn’t mean they know how to swim with a tail. People would go for that, right? Being a mermaid for a few days?” “I know people who would go nuts for that. Brilliant idea.” Will got out the notepad and scribbled furiously. “Of course, we’ll have to check where it’s safe and okay with the local merfolk to do so, make sure we won’t upset the local wildlife, keep it to very small groups at a time, probably a bunch of other precautions I’m not thinking of...” Three minutes to go. Busy peering over Will’s shoulder trying to make out what he was writing, Tyrian barely even heard the footsteps as the newcomer approached the dais. It was when they stopped he noticed the change of sound, and looked round. “I’ll have to do a massive survey of pretty much the whole Realm, maybe even the whole country, and we might even have to check with the neighbouring mermaid Queendom to-“ “Lawrence.” Will paused. The man stood awkwardly a few feet before the throne seemed little different to what Tyrian remembered. Peach skin, long, light brown hair in a braid. A little stockier now, though still slim, and dressed in a matching set of red trousers and shirt, edged with an elaborate gold pattern; his family crest, repeated over and over. He was clutching the edges of his dark purple cape together, though the emerald and gold pin was surely doing a fine job of that, and he kept his green eyes averted from the king’s face. “...Your Majesty.” Will had stopped writing and was obviously trying not to stare. “I um, I’ve taken over from my mother...” “Okay, okay, I’m sorry, I know this is unprofessional, but Lawrence as in...?” Will questioned. Tyrian gave a small nod. “Oh no,” the man said in a small voice, pulling his cloak even tighter. “I mean, you can’t really have expected me not to talk about you?” Tyrian directed this at the unfortunate Lawrence. “Of course not.” Lawrence replied. “So it... It really is my fault.” Tyrian frowned, caught off guard. “What is?” Tyrian did have a mental list of things that were Lawrence’s fault, but nothing he could think Lawrence should be aware of. “That everyone got kicked out of the palace,” Lawrence replied. “If you want to get extremely psychological about it, I suppose so, but otherwise no,” Tyrian replied. “I needed the nobles out. ‘Everyone’ did not get kicked out, in fact.” “Yes, that’s ... That’s true...” Lawrence admitted. He bit his lip, and still refused to meet Tyrian’s gaze. There was a long silence. “So? What did you come to me for?” Tyrian prompted. “There’s been griffin attacks. Increasing frequency. We don’t want to hurt the griffins, we know they’re endangered... But we have to do something.” “Do you know what’s causing it?” Tyrian asked. Lawrence shook his head. “No.” “It needs investigating then.” Lawrence finally looked at him, brow furrowed. “I thought that was the palace’s responsibility? Once we’ve reported it?” “No?” Tyrian replied, just as puzzled. “That’s part of your job? Safeguarding the village? That’s why people pay you the taxes??” “Oh... Yes... I thought because it was a wildlife issue...” Lawrence looked down again as his cheeks turned crimson. “It is good that you reported it before you took any action, of course,” Tyrian clarified, “and I’ll assign someone to you so we can cooperate on the matter.” Lawrence gave a single nod. “Thank you, Your Majesty. I... I’ll, um, I’ll start investigating in the meantime. I’ll make sure I’m familiar with the Endangered Species Act before we start the research. I’m quite lost as to how to go about it, so if you have any advice, please do send it along.” “I will. Please do also send me any ideas you do come up with.” Lawrence loitered for some moments, turned to go, then turned back. “... Is there any possibility you’ll ever let the nobles back in...?” “Who asked you to ask?” Tyrian demanded. “Um. A few people.” “Well, you can tell them no,” Tyrian replied firmly. “It’s now impossible because we need the space for the magic school students, the new museum, some other tourism business, possibly this griffin thing, and not your personal fault in any way whatsoever.” “...Thank you. That’s everything. Well... No...” He took a steadying breath. “I... I really am sorry, you know. I know I really hurt you. I shouldn’t have... ... ... I know that doesn’t matter now, but... I couldn’t leave without saying it.” “Well, you have said it, therefore, you can leave,” Tyrian responded. Lawrence nodded mutely before turning and heading back towards the main doors. He was almost to the door before Tyrian shouted after him, “And don’t you bloody well dare wait another thirty bloody years to talk to me again! You... Spineless cabbage!” The man turned to give him a weak smile before he disappeared. His footsteps faded away. Consulting hours were officially over. “You know, cabbages are not known for their spines,” Will pointed out. “Couldn’t think of anything suitably insulting.” Tyrian rubbed his temples. “And yet suitably ‘You are actually allowed to come and talk to me without it being a sodding emergency’.” Tyrian pressed his palms into his eyes. “The absolute bastard.” “You don’t mean it.” Will reached over and squeezed his hand. “I bloody do. I mean, I don’t, but I do.” “Weirdly, I know what you mean.” “He’s still... Ugh. He only came to me because some of the other nobles wanted him to,” Tyrian complained. “Perhaps they thought an old flame would convince me to change my mind. Ha! They can come in person, next time.” “I don’t think that’s it... Not all of it, anyway.” “No?” “If you were him, what would you have done? If the tables were turned?” “I would have just come to Aurelia. I could’ve avoided the whole situation-” Tyrian folded his arms. “Oh. Alright, fine. Maybe he’s not a spineless cabbage.” “What would a cabbage even look like with a spine?” “I don’t think this is a productive area of discussion.” “It most certainly is not and the spined cabbages of my imagination might haunt me forever.” Will wrinkled his nose. “Quick, new topic?” “Griffins?” Tyrian suggested. “Ideas on how to investigate them?” “Harforth gets attacked by griffins still,” Will mused. “They can’t really do anything much about it. It’s normally in the hard times, like winter, when food is hard to find.” “But it’s never winter here,” Tyrian thought aloud. “What could have happened??” “I guess we need to find a way of tracking griffins?” Will suggested. “I guess we do...”