Kheldar’s Captain of the Royal Guard
There was no chance that Kheldar would have missed everything that Rosto had kept quiet about - he could never have loved someone so completely unclever and unaware as that. But the deepest and darkest depths had been reserved for him; he was the great bellied wolf that consumed all of the dark before the Crown Prince could so much as step a foot’s brushing against a shadow. He ate up the worst of the worst, sharing only when he dealt with the whitish fog to angry stormcloud grays.
The planned unseating of the Royal Family by the Middle and Lower classes would not have been stopped - he had hemmed it in by murder and sowing strife for long enough… but eventually a King with no regard for those below the line of Nobility, well… Even a Prince cannot hold back the entirety of a Kingdom. Surely, the intended death of Kheldar was seen as unfortunate and even painful, but not a voice was being raised to refute it. The line had simply too much tyrannical inclination for them to tolerate the idea of sparing a single one. Not one prince, princess, duke, duchess, king, or queen would be spared. He had all but bathed in the blood of His People to slow the progress, to give him a few years, to let even the latest assassination attempt give room for them to glimpse a new potential in their most favored prince.
His People said, ‘No.’ And that was the end. The end of his killings in any name at all. Instead he began fashioning the web that had led not only the Crown Prince but also his beloved sister to survival. It began the work that had inspired so many of his People as well as even a couple beloved members of Nobility to sacrifice and even die to give hope that there might be breath allowed for those two gems amidst the stone hearted bloodline losing grip on the throne.
He rips at the grass and his soulbrother is no stupid fool to miss the fluctuations in his temper. Benign and peeved, he usually reserved that for orders he did not like or knowledge he did not wish to be in possession of. It was hard for him, at the strongest of feelings, to hide things well. "What troubles you so, Thief?"
"Mind your quest, Prince." he says ALMOST disagreeably enough to cross into rudeness, though he side-eyes his Lord with half an apology in them.
"I care not for whether we find the Heart of the World, you know. As if such a thing can be possessed by a single soul." The flattening of his ears should have been a clue to add to many others, but he had possibly been sour enough so far to have his near-wince mistaken. He had never marched well, so longer travels could anticipate seeing him in a bitter way, especially while it was yet morning. "We shall search for it, but when we return empty handed, I will weather my father’s wrath as I have done, and will do." He hates that he does not know--
"And for what it’s worth, I do not feel ready to claim his crown. There is nothing more I want. Nothing more I need."
It was too late. It was too late to take that crown he wanted, he needed. He grinds his teeth on the fodder with special prejudice. He could not tell this fool yet, the noble thing would be to charge headlong into death. Death that would swallow not only this one-time Prince, but also his sister and his own roguish self. He had sold to the princess his might so that she would not stand up and draw attention to herself, so that she would allow the deaths that must be for the best of that broken family to live. He gave his word that it would be death to return because she needed that ultimate authority. And then it’d also render moot the sacrifices that had made for the Crown Prince’s sake - friends amongst the nobility who would risk the dangers of a new court as formerly recognized friends of the Crown Prince and the Princess, friends amongst the underbelly dwellers that had died to clear their escape… his own best and longest standing lieutenant who had the breeding and the look enough and had chosen to take deadly hooves to his own body from his dearest friends and companions so that it would serve as a body bloated by the river enough to pass for the true personage of the Crown Prince instead.
He snaps his long tail against his legs, shaking for a third time, keeping watch while Kheldar eats. Aware that even then the other stallion was not utterly without attention paid to their surroundings. Again, he would not love a fool. "What do you suppose we’ll find, if not the beating heart of the world?"
"If not the heart of the world, then maybe a whole new world unto itself." He says, trying and failing to bring himself to even hint at his liege and love, they would not be retracing their long journey back home. "Maybe new brothers to find some wild adventure so that any return home will be a success, regardless of the Jewel."
OF THE LOST ISLANDS WILDS
▻ 6 years - iberian mutt - sooty bay tobiano rabicano Sabino - 16.1 hh ◅