Caderyn wouldn't have believed it if he hadn't seen it with his own eyes--if he wasn't staring it at it, mouth agape in utter horror, at this very moment--and the more responsible side of him was currently making a valiant attempt to muster up the willpower to put a stop to whatever twisted thing was going on here. And yet the rest of him, the side of him that was still a young man and a warrior and very much not a king, could put together no such will. He stared blankly--numbly--and watched.
Not five minutes ago, the world had made sense. Caderyn had been looking forward to seeing Elizabeth or perhaps to seeking out Adrasteia to talk before dinner; they didn't speak nearly enough these days, not since he had taken his brother's throne and she had left with the tyrant himself in tow, taking him as far from the palace as she could in some vain hope of keeping him out of trouble while Caderyn tried to rule and Sigurd tried to search for the remnants of his people. But now that she was back--even if it meant that his brother was there, as well--he intended to spend as much time with her as possible, hoped to reassure her that she had his friendship if not his heart. Hoped to reassure himself that she didn't hold his marriage against him--that she understood it had only been for the good of their kingdom and that he would have gladly married her if he could. (Elizabeth, he knew, wouldn't have been thrilled to hear that part.)
But then the servant had come in, some mousy young maid he didn't recognize, a girl he might have seen every day without truly noticing or might simply have never laid eyes on before in his life. Either way, she came to him with wide, panicked eyes and a deeply flushed face while she quite vehemently insisted that she'd seen the former king breaking into the now-forbidden wing of the palace that had once been his throne room. And while Caderyn had rather doubted that veracity of such a claim, he had resolved himself to checking nevertheless; if Charon was skulking around up there, that was something Caderyn needed to know. The day had long since gone when he would put anything past his brother.
And so he had gone upstairs, had climbed staircases and opened doors that hadn't been used in two years, and he had indeed found his brother in the dark, dusty rooms that had once been the seat of his power. And within them, Charon was not alone.
As Caderyn neared the massive expanse of the intimidatingly dark and sinister room where Charon had once held court--where he had been defeated and dethroned two years ago by Adrasteia and Caderyn himself--he came to a sudden halt. He could hear unmistakable noises coming from the room beyond; the former king was quite clearly in flagrante, and Caderyn could only roll his eyes as he thought back on the request the man had made only a week before. He had asked for his mother's wedding ring, of all things, and had been at the time particularly reluctant to discuss why he wanted it--or who he wanted it for. To say Caderyn's interest had been piqued would be a vast understatement; the notion that Charon had somehow managed to convince a woman--no doubt some vapid noblewoman or class-climbing peasant who failed to understand just how far his brother's position had fallen--to marry him had a certain note of absurdity. From what Caderyn had seen the past few weeks, Adrasteia had him as firmly under her thumb as possible; he was still defiant and abrasive and generally the same rather uncharismatic man Caderyn had always known him to be, but Caderyn had been shocked to detect a note of genuine submission about him, a deference to Adrasteia's leadership that could only have shocked him more if he hadn't known just how magnetic Adrasteia could be. The woman inspired people, drew people to her like moths to a flame, and so perhaps he shouldn't have been surprised that his brother fell to the same trap they all did; Adrasteia had tamed Charon just as she'd done with Caderyn, Erynis, and all the rest of them.
But Caderyn hadn't appreciated, apparently, just how she'd managed to do that to his brother.
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timeasmymeasure
Out of Sight [1/?]
Date: 2016-02-23 11:27 am (UTC)Not five minutes ago, the world had made sense. Caderyn had been looking forward to seeing Elizabeth or perhaps to seeking out Adrasteia to talk before dinner; they didn't speak nearly enough these days, not since he had taken his brother's throne and she had left with the tyrant himself in tow, taking him as far from the palace as she could in some vain hope of keeping him out of trouble while Caderyn tried to rule and Sigurd tried to search for the remnants of his people. But now that she was back--even if it meant that his brother was there, as well--he intended to spend as much time with her as possible, hoped to reassure her that she had his friendship if not his heart. Hoped to reassure himself that she didn't hold his marriage against him--that she understood it had only been for the good of their kingdom and that he would have gladly married her if he could. (Elizabeth, he knew, wouldn't have been thrilled to hear that part.)
But then the servant had come in, some mousy young maid he didn't recognize, a girl he might have seen every day without truly noticing or might simply have never laid eyes on before in his life. Either way, she came to him with wide, panicked eyes and a deeply flushed face while she quite vehemently insisted that she'd seen the former king breaking into the now-forbidden wing of the palace that had once been his throne room. And while Caderyn had rather doubted that veracity of such a claim, he had resolved himself to checking nevertheless; if Charon was skulking around up there, that was something Caderyn needed to know. The day had long since gone when he would put anything past his brother.
And so he had gone upstairs, had climbed staircases and opened doors that hadn't been used in two years, and he had indeed found his brother in the dark, dusty rooms that had once been the seat of his power. And within them, Charon was not alone.
As Caderyn neared the massive expanse of the intimidatingly dark and sinister room where Charon had once held court--where he had been defeated and dethroned two years ago by Adrasteia and Caderyn himself--he came to a sudden halt. He could hear unmistakable noises coming from the room beyond; the former king was quite clearly in flagrante, and Caderyn could only roll his eyes as he thought back on the request the man had made only a week before. He had asked for his mother's wedding ring, of all things, and had been at the time particularly reluctant to discuss why he wanted it--or who he wanted it for. To say Caderyn's interest had been piqued would be a vast understatement; the notion that Charon had somehow managed to convince a woman--no doubt some vapid noblewoman or class-climbing peasant who failed to understand just how far his brother's position had fallen--to marry him had a certain note of absurdity. From what Caderyn had seen the past few weeks, Adrasteia had him as firmly under her thumb as possible; he was still defiant and abrasive and generally the same rather uncharismatic man Caderyn had always known him to be, but Caderyn had been shocked to detect a note of genuine submission about him, a deference to Adrasteia's leadership that could only have shocked him more if he hadn't known just how magnetic Adrasteia could be. The woman inspired people, drew people to her like moths to a flame, and so perhaps he shouldn't have been surprised that his brother fell to the same trap they all did; Adrasteia had tamed Charon just as she'd done with Caderyn, Erynis, and all the rest of them.
But Caderyn hadn't appreciated, apparently, just how she'd managed to do that to his brother.