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Penitent Book 3 Ch 56: King Marlo
🕑 Added 2025-12-27 13:00:07 +0000 UTCMichael was scrubbed clean by servants and dressed before being shuffled through the halls alongside Ollie and Aza. While he’d been expecting something overwrought, they actually dressed him in a simple white shirt and dark blue pants with a red pattern sewn down the leg. It was fine clothing, made well, but he wouldn’t consider it ‘fancy’. Ollie was wearing a simple outfit, but with a black shirt and dark red pants that better matched his titled beast jacket and hat. Aza was in a simple yellow robe. Pants didn’t really factor into the lizardfolk wardrobe, but they did all favor having at least some covering to keep warm when they were out of the sun. Lance was wearing a match for Michael’s clothing, but with red stitching on his shirt collar and sleeves.
Ollie and Michael gave him winks as he was led down a separate hall which he responded to with some redness in his cheeks.
They were led to a surprisingly intimate dining room with a table that could seat maybe a dozen, and they were seated right by the head of the table. The King and Queen were not there, but there were a number of servants finishing the final touches on a number of dishes that had been laid out. Michael saw steaks, crab, large hunks of fish, vegetables glazed in honey, and a large pot of soup. Michael’s mouth was watering, but he resisted reaching for anything. Aza and Ollie resisted as well, they’d been schooled on a few basics by Lance over the last few days. They wouldn’t be held to the standard of nobility, but having manners could only help.
After only a few minutes two servants opened the main door to the dining room. Michael and the others stood as the King and Queen arrived.
Michael had heard a lot of talk about the king's health, but seeing him was another story. The man was gaunt. Not to the point of being skeletal, but you could’ve used the hollowness of his cheeks as a bowl. In spite of that Michael could see the resemblance to the previous Emperor. The man’s hair was the same bold red and he had it braided behind his head. His eyes were deep and dark, and his skin as pale as parchment. He was wearing a blue-gray doublet with silver thread and buttons. He had a slight smile on his face, but his eyes were focused and clear as he regarded them.
On his arm was the queen. She was pretty, but plain, wearing a gown of the same blue-gray as her husband’s doublet with her golden hair flowing freely down her back. She had wide hips and a healthy complexion, with full cheeks that made her physically the King’s opposite. She was smiling, and her gray eyes had an openness to them that bordered on naivete.
“I present King Marlo and Queen Vauna,” said Bren who was just a few feet behind them as they entered.
Michael and Ollie bowed as he was announced, but Aza simply nodded at him.
“Please, sit, eat,” said the King. His voice was soft as his eyes went across all of them.
They didn’t need much prodding. Michael sat and quickly loaded his plate with steak and honey drizzled veggies along with a cup of the soup in the center of the table. He had been told that there would be no discussion until the meal was complete, but his mouth wound up being too full to have spoken at any moment throughout the meal anyway. Ollie was gorging himself with even more gusto, loudly enjoying every bite. Aza simply swallowed four massive hunks of meat whole and washed it down with the soup commenting on its quality before sitting patiently and waiting for the rest of them to finish.
The king had only a bowl of soup and he ate it slowly and deliberately. It was some kind of crab soup, similar to what Michael had had back home. The queen sled a pre-cut steak over to the king at some point and he reluctantly ate the majority of it before she stopped watching him and he returned to his soup. The queen herself was as hearty an eater as Ollie, and probably out-ate him. As she ate Michael looked a bit more closely at her. Her gown was a bit looser at the midsection, not belted at the waist like most of the servant girls clothes, but rather just under the bust. He guessed she was likely pregnant.
Before they’d all finished Michael, curious about the gossip in spite of himself, activated Eyes of Love to look at King Marlo. He immediately saw a powerful chord connecting him to Bren standing only a few feet behind him. It was the same as the kind Michael had led Laird to his wife with. Aside from that one he also had a powerful chord to the Queen, and the Queen had a thinner, but still strong, connection to Bren. She and the King also had three equally powerful connections leading out of the room, likely to their children Michael had heard mentioned. He couldn’t quite parse the relationship, but it wasn’t really his business.
He decided to switch to his Eyes of Judgement and look at the King. He could see the guilt of lying to his mother about tearing a tapestry as a child and a servant being beaten for it. He could see him sneaking out of the castle for a secret tryst. He saw him lying to his father and telling him he’d been a good king and a better father on his death bed. He saw him poisoning and purging his father’s old advisors, personally killing two and nearly dying from a small nick on his arm. He saw orders for war, he saw the recruitment of average citizens to fight and die, he saw hard decisions that weighed on his soul.
Overall, thought Michael as he placed another piece of steak into his mouth, he imagined the King’s soul was weighed down far less than most other leaders of countries. He couldn’t even imagine what the king of Stent or Tusynia’s souls would be like.
Once dinner was done, the queen excused herself to tend to her children and the rest of them were led to a study. It had a wide open window showing the entire colorful city spread out below them and allowed for a pleasant breeze from the sea. The walls were lined with books and there was a large table with a map in the center of it. There were small miniatures representing forces and markings for rifts as well that matched the updated map Michael had worked on with Knight-Captain Leon.
King Marlo sat carefully at one end of the table facing them, Bren standing to his right, hovering just over his shoulder.
“I apologize for not standing to speak with you. I have not had much rest with what has occurred at Lataxia and my weakness is mainly affecting my legs today.”
Michael was a bit surprised at his informality, but nodded, as did the others.
“Prince Aza, you are the first of your people I have met. Is there some traditional greeting done between leaders of your people?”
Aza tilted his head to the side. “Typically we gently smack tails together.”
Marlo laughed. “I apologize, but I lack the equipment for that.”
Aza approached him and held out a hand. “We may try your method then.”
Marlo forced himself to his feet, even though it meant he’d need to lean forward dramatically, and shook the lizardman’s hand.
“I have heard reports of you and your people’s bravery in the fighting to save Lataxia.”
“We were fighting to save ourselves.”
The King smiled wanly. “A sentiment I can understand.” He straightened himself in his chair. “Whatever the case, I feel I must reward you for your contribution.” He paused. “There are a few ways that this can take place, but most are variations of two themes. If you were human and aware of court procedure then we could bicker and backdoor deal for a few months, but you are not and I don’t believe we have too much time to bicker about it. So how about I tell you exactly what your options are.”
“And if I don’t like any of them?” asked the Prince. “You will kill, exile, or enslave us?”
“Exile at worst, but I’d probably discuss changes we could make before acting too drastically. This is a complicated situation, and nuances are bound to crop up that neither of us have considered. What I’m going to lay out would be broad strokes of plans for you to consider.”
Aza nodded. “I shall listen.”
Michael was surprised at how forward the King was, but he wasn’t complaining.
“The first option,” the king started, “Would be to make you a vassal. I would grant you lands to do with as you wished, but you’d be subject to my laws and I would be considered your ruler as well as the ruler of your people. You’d be made a Duke, though your lands and power would be far from other Dukes. The title is merely to avoid insulting your status as a Prince of your people.” He stood. “I would settle you here,” he pointed at the map. “This area is fertile, but untamed and there are many ruins of Old Hume that would make for an excellent skeleton on which to build up.”
“But we would bow to you.”
“There are benefits to being a direct vassal. I’d defend you any time you are threatened, encourage my people to integrate and trade with you as much as possible, and aid you with material goods when necessary. With the title of Duke you would also have access to credit with Hume which would allow you funds to purchase what your people need.”
Aza’s tail thudded a bit against the floor as he considered it. “And the other option?”
“We would grant you a piece of land to call your own. It would be considered yours in all ways to do with as you please. We would not protect you unless we come to some mutual support pact. The land we’d grant you would also not be ideal, but chosen to be of strategic benefit to us. So far I’ve identified a strip of land to the south just before the old capital, near where the rifts are their worst, or further north near the lake of beasts where no one wishes to settle due to the swampy land and dangers lurking there.”
Aza’s tail was bouncing against the ground a bit quicker.
“I wouldn’t send you there with nothing, mind you. I would prepare supplies to last you a few months. It’s the least I could do. And if you wished to volunteer some of your warriors to support us with the rifts, I would consider even more. I will also say that while those areas have their dangers, other nations are unlikely to harass you at either of them.”
Michael would have chosen to be a vassal, but he knew immediately which of the options Aza preferred.
“I will take independence. My people have not had their own place in a long time.”
The King nodded. “I respect that. Let’s go into the details.”
Comments
Teral Hilliard
*The Argonians have entered the chat
Simon Barabash
Itsa me marlo
