"Would you have, though? I looked around that room and every face was full of anger or, at best, distrust," he spat the words, still feeling the sting of it. "The only one who was willing to support me - the only one who gave me the benefit of the doubt - was Bastien. And even he didn't trust me so much as 'anyone not Zariah.'" Though Bastien not trusting him caused no pain, at least. The men had never really been friends, and he could find no sense of betrayal at the artist's light-hearted words.
"If I had remained king, you all would have painted me as a power-hungry thief who stabbed Ronin the back to gain that position," he continued bitterly. "If I gave it up, they would say I was weak-willed and untrustworthy, unworthy and unwelcome. Either way I lost, Kiada. The only question was whether I wanted my reputation to be a power hungry traitor or a spineless coward." Power was a drug, and not one he had any desire to become addicted to, but dammit, if they had just trusted him a little they might have been able to find a better way!
"Think what you will. I took the position to put Ronin into power, as we voted on. No, it didn't go the way anyone wanted... but at least I can take solace in knowing that I succeeded in that much, at least. If I had stayed king I would have betrayed myself, and that was a price I wasn't willing to pay to sate your desire to have a target." With Zariah gone and Edy mostly avoiding the job, he would have ended up wearing that mantle anyways. Gods least fortunate, how he hated politics.
'Only a friend' she said, and part of his heart ached at the words. If any of his friends had come to him individually to express their dismay at his choice it might have turned out very differently; a conversation instead of a wolf pack singling out a weak elk and each tearing into it until it fell. But the only person who had sought him out in such a way had been Rexanna... and she had been focused entirely on her own situation, with no time for his. The past didn't change just for wishing at it, and he didn't stop walking as Kiada stared at his retreating back.
"I wasn't hard to find," he said heavily, something sparking painfully in his chest at hearing they had tried to look for him, when he had thought himself alone except for Rory. "Not for anyone with a nose. I... left Rory's house and... I was in the Glade for a while..." In spite of his whiplash words and temper, his voice cracked uncertainly on the statements that were almost more like questions. That time was muddled and largely lost to him. He remembered Rory's anger, the loud disagreement and then the quieter apologies he had spoken. He had been kicked out for a night, brooded by the Oasis instead of taking proper shelter, and when he had come back the next day he had been sick, the fever just beginning to heat his skin. He had been put in Rory's old room, shivering and coughing as an autumn ague took hold and then... and then...
Nothing but the fever ghosts, until he had woken in his den in the Glade in his foxform, no memory of how he got there or when. Rory had been worried sick when he'd finally limped back to the farmhouse, trembling and weak from hunger and illness. He'd been gone a week, and like all animals he had wanted no witnesses to his recovery but his mate. The next time he'd gone out had been to the Cloister of Trials, which felt half-dream all on its own.
"Why are you following me, Kiada?" he asked heavily at last, his steps slowing until he paused again, though he stayed turned away from her. "If you are so angry and disappointed, why are you here?" He leaned against the wall, using the solid stone to steady his trembling hand and hoping she wouldn't see how it shook as Isuma reeped softly in concern, perching on his shoulder to look from caracal to man and back again with wounded worry for both of them.
"If I had remained king, you all would have painted me as a power-hungry thief who stabbed Ronin the back to gain that position," he continued bitterly. "If I gave it up, they would say I was weak-willed and untrustworthy, unworthy and unwelcome. Either way I lost, Kiada. The only question was whether I wanted my reputation to be a power hungry traitor or a spineless coward." Power was a drug, and not one he had any desire to become addicted to, but dammit, if they had just trusted him a little they might have been able to find a better way!
"Think what you will. I took the position to put Ronin into power, as we voted on. No, it didn't go the way anyone wanted... but at least I can take solace in knowing that I succeeded in that much, at least. If I had stayed king I would have betrayed myself, and that was a price I wasn't willing to pay to sate your desire to have a target." With Zariah gone and Edy mostly avoiding the job, he would have ended up wearing that mantle anyways. Gods least fortunate, how he hated politics.
'Only a friend' she said, and part of his heart ached at the words. If any of his friends had come to him individually to express their dismay at his choice it might have turned out very differently; a conversation instead of a wolf pack singling out a weak elk and each tearing into it until it fell. But the only person who had sought him out in such a way had been Rexanna... and she had been focused entirely on her own situation, with no time for his. The past didn't change just for wishing at it, and he didn't stop walking as Kiada stared at his retreating back.
"I wasn't hard to find," he said heavily, something sparking painfully in his chest at hearing they had tried to look for him, when he had thought himself alone except for Rory. "Not for anyone with a nose. I... left Rory's house and... I was in the Glade for a while..." In spite of his whiplash words and temper, his voice cracked uncertainly on the statements that were almost more like questions. That time was muddled and largely lost to him. He remembered Rory's anger, the loud disagreement and then the quieter apologies he had spoken. He had been kicked out for a night, brooded by the Oasis instead of taking proper shelter, and when he had come back the next day he had been sick, the fever just beginning to heat his skin. He had been put in Rory's old room, shivering and coughing as an autumn ague took hold and then... and then...
Nothing but the fever ghosts, until he had woken in his den in the Glade in his foxform, no memory of how he got there or when. Rory had been worried sick when he'd finally limped back to the farmhouse, trembling and weak from hunger and illness. He'd been gone a week, and like all animals he had wanted no witnesses to his recovery but his mate. The next time he'd gone out had been to the Cloister of Trials, which felt half-dream all on its own.
"Why are you following me, Kiada?" he asked heavily at last, his steps slowing until he paused again, though he stayed turned away from her. "If you are so angry and disappointed, why are you here?" He leaned against the wall, using the solid stone to steady his trembling hand and hoping she wouldn't see how it shook as Isuma reeped softly in concern, perching on his shoulder to look from caracal to man and back again with wounded worry for both of them.
