Post by Emperor Florin von Marcum on Oct 31, 2022 3:26:39 GMT
Florin knew better. His uncle was never loving, sure, but he wouldn’t go so far as to try and have him killed. Uncle Aodhan had served the government faithfully. He had acted as regent all these years.
But the cloud of doubt still loomed in his mind. Finally, pacing his study, he hit the buzzer. Asked the steward to bring in his uncle. He would ask directly, and then he’d have peace when the closest thing he had to a father assuaged him of his fears in that stern way.
When the Archduke finally knocked with his one good arm and entered, Florin was staring out the window. They were still tinted with their reds and blues. Another constant reminder of the family he never had.
“Yes Florin? I was just about to go over the reports on the costs incurred by the-“
“Did you try to have me killed?”
Aodhan chuckled. “I didn’t realize you did not like lamb. I told you that the staff would not serve it while you were here again.”
“I mean the Merchant Marine Day ceremony.” Florin tugged at the laces on his tunic, presenting the fading yet visible scar across his chest. “I ended up speaking to the man who did it. He said a young boy paid him to. A scout. They’ve answered to you all this time right? Was there a mole?” His voice rose in desperation. It pleaded for the answer he wanted.
“Oh that. You were never in any real danger. The Praetorian guard were there to defend you.”
“That… isn’t what I asked. Did you order it done?”
“Don’t take it personally boy. It was arranged for show. Neither of us were in any real danger.”
The blatant tone stunned him. Desperate for something, Florin crossed over to the desk, placing the solid walnut between him and his uncle like a shield.
“But WHY? What if it had gone wrong? Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you ask me? I’m the emperor!”
Aodhan stiffened. Never had the boy had the audacity to speak to him in such a tone.
“I do not need to ask you when I am the regent. I ran the country for you, your Majesty, while you were still in swaddling clothes. What I did, I did to secure our colonies from the Sadalers. I did it to protect my family.”
“Am I not your family? Am I not the son of your favorite niece?”
“MY family, Florin. My daughter! You could not have acted on your own, so I took matters into my own hands.”
“I see. And if something had gone wrong and I was killed? Did you have some grand plan then?” He waited, white knuckled as he leaned in to hear the inevitable treason.
Aodhan scoffed. “Dramatics again. You’d make a fine poet with the way you go on. There was no possibility you were more than simply injured. A contingency wasn’t necessary. Your mother understood making sacrifices for her country. If you insist on following in her footsteps I’d suggest you learn that.”
Florin rounded on him, crossing in front of the desk, holding down an anger he wasn’t accustomed to. “Don’t start that again. I am not my mother, nor my father, brother, grandmother or anyone! And I’m certainly not like YOU! I cannot believe you’d do this to me!”
“Oh for the love of the Aera! This is why you need me! You’ll fail as an emperor if you insist on being coddled! Imagine that poor Magdali girl forced to wed you when she-“
Aodhan didn’t finish his sentence as the boy grabbed his uncle's skull and slammed it into the plaster. For a stunned moment the older man stared, feeling a trickle where his head made contact under the grip of his nephew. Only a moment though, before Florin, through gritted teeth, gripped the hair in his hand tighter and continued his onslaught. Again and again. The windows shook in their frames from the force of impact. Bits of bone splintered away and skittered across the tiles. The trickle of blood turned to rivulets pouring down the Archdukes head as he gasped meekly, until he lost consciousness. Yet with his adrenaline pumping, Florin hoisted the body up and continued pounding the limp man into the wall until grey matter oozed in chunks, sliding down and landing with a wet thud amongst the viscera.
How long it had been, Florin could not say. He dropped the ragged body and turned away toward the window. Through the red glaze, he could see his own reflection. Deadend eyes. Hair matted the same crimson shade as the roses that reflected his image. He thought of confession, but shook the notion off quickly. Perhaps he’d take tea.
“Uncle, would you like a drink?”
But the cloud of doubt still loomed in his mind. Finally, pacing his study, he hit the buzzer. Asked the steward to bring in his uncle. He would ask directly, and then he’d have peace when the closest thing he had to a father assuaged him of his fears in that stern way.
When the Archduke finally knocked with his one good arm and entered, Florin was staring out the window. They were still tinted with their reds and blues. Another constant reminder of the family he never had.
“Yes Florin? I was just about to go over the reports on the costs incurred by the-“
“Did you try to have me killed?”
Aodhan chuckled. “I didn’t realize you did not like lamb. I told you that the staff would not serve it while you were here again.”
“I mean the Merchant Marine Day ceremony.” Florin tugged at the laces on his tunic, presenting the fading yet visible scar across his chest. “I ended up speaking to the man who did it. He said a young boy paid him to. A scout. They’ve answered to you all this time right? Was there a mole?” His voice rose in desperation. It pleaded for the answer he wanted.
“Oh that. You were never in any real danger. The Praetorian guard were there to defend you.”
“That… isn’t what I asked. Did you order it done?”
“Don’t take it personally boy. It was arranged for show. Neither of us were in any real danger.”
The blatant tone stunned him. Desperate for something, Florin crossed over to the desk, placing the solid walnut between him and his uncle like a shield.
“But WHY? What if it had gone wrong? Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you ask me? I’m the emperor!”
Aodhan stiffened. Never had the boy had the audacity to speak to him in such a tone.
“I do not need to ask you when I am the regent. I ran the country for you, your Majesty, while you were still in swaddling clothes. What I did, I did to secure our colonies from the Sadalers. I did it to protect my family.”
“Am I not your family? Am I not the son of your favorite niece?”
“MY family, Florin. My daughter! You could not have acted on your own, so I took matters into my own hands.”
“I see. And if something had gone wrong and I was killed? Did you have some grand plan then?” He waited, white knuckled as he leaned in to hear the inevitable treason.
Aodhan scoffed. “Dramatics again. You’d make a fine poet with the way you go on. There was no possibility you were more than simply injured. A contingency wasn’t necessary. Your mother understood making sacrifices for her country. If you insist on following in her footsteps I’d suggest you learn that.”
Florin rounded on him, crossing in front of the desk, holding down an anger he wasn’t accustomed to. “Don’t start that again. I am not my mother, nor my father, brother, grandmother or anyone! And I’m certainly not like YOU! I cannot believe you’d do this to me!”
“Oh for the love of the Aera! This is why you need me! You’ll fail as an emperor if you insist on being coddled! Imagine that poor Magdali girl forced to wed you when she-“
Aodhan didn’t finish his sentence as the boy grabbed his uncle's skull and slammed it into the plaster. For a stunned moment the older man stared, feeling a trickle where his head made contact under the grip of his nephew. Only a moment though, before Florin, through gritted teeth, gripped the hair in his hand tighter and continued his onslaught. Again and again. The windows shook in their frames from the force of impact. Bits of bone splintered away and skittered across the tiles. The trickle of blood turned to rivulets pouring down the Archdukes head as he gasped meekly, until he lost consciousness. Yet with his adrenaline pumping, Florin hoisted the body up and continued pounding the limp man into the wall until grey matter oozed in chunks, sliding down and landing with a wet thud amongst the viscera.
How long it had been, Florin could not say. He dropped the ragged body and turned away toward the window. Through the red glaze, he could see his own reflection. Deadend eyes. Hair matted the same crimson shade as the roses that reflected his image. He thought of confession, but shook the notion off quickly. Perhaps he’d take tea.
“Uncle, would you like a drink?”