Amid the Ruin, Ch. 39
https://archiveofourown.org/works/22833406/chapters/75890396
Alucard crossed his legs and slouched low against the headboard. Rhy was up and pacing, had been for most of that day. He had suspended talks for two days with the justification that the delegates could use the time to clear their minds, to see Arnes’ capital. He had dismissed Kell to tend to neglected tasks around London, but would not be taking a break himself. He had come to bed the night before with Cora’s agreement and conditions to fulfill. He had enlisted Alucard after complimenting his cleverness for sometime; Alucard had agreed out of worry.
Rhy was exhausted and truly looked it. The talks dragging on weeks longer than expected had taken its toll. Nights littered with nightmares alternated with long, sleepless ones filled with feverish work. Alucard had shamelessly fallen back on caress and kiss to try pulling him into bed, hoping at the very least that a soft blanket would lull the younger man into rest. The young king never took the bait, pushing him aside with tired, well-meaning smiles.
Rhy had been up most of the night, locked inside the palace’s private tea room.
Alucard had awoken that morning to a cold mattress beside him and settled in for the day.
As he paced, Rhy muttered to himself, the very image of madness. Alucard simply waited for his voice to raise, waited to be spoken to. The longer Rhy whispered about Vesk, the Taskons, and Cora’s desire to be queen, the more Alucard wished he had left the king to himself. He was very close to regretting his decision. He could have been with Anissa, making up years worth of time with her, catching up on all that he had missed while imprisoned in Vesk. Instead, he was sitting silently as Rhy endeavored to help the very country that had kept him under lock and key.
Bitterness rose in Alucard’s throat. Cora Taskon was the last person he was jumping to help. He understood her agreement would seal Osaron’s fate. He understood how critical that element was to getting this peace treaty signed. He did not understand why Rhy had to play queen-maker.
Rhy Maresh, king of Arnes, protector of London, was endeavoring to reorganize another country’s line of succession.
Alucard bit into his cheek. Something like that could jeopardize international relations, perhaps build the powder keg that would launch a second war.
“Don’t look at me that way! It’s not a terrible idea… entirely.”
“This is all a terrible idea,” Alucard mumbled.
Rhy blinked. “What?”
Alucard inhaled, neutralizing the emotion in his expression. “I’m sorry, you were saying?”
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