LOREN
Loren just gave Remi a blank look, though if the alchemist looked closely he might see amusement lurking in the summoner’s eyes. Then again, maybe not: the Launceleyn still didn’t know how much the other man could and could not see. ”How awful,” the librarian drawled, just in case. Clearly this was a victory he was more than willing to concede to the other man.”Gods, what a mess. Have people been officially pardoned for everything?” Loren ran a hand through his hair, a mixture of nervousness and exasperation at his cousin coursing through him. ”How did Zariah even become queen to begin with?” Surely if opposition to her reign had started so swiftly and vociferously, there must’ve been people worried about it beforehand.
Remi was right about one thing: there was a whole community of people. Granted, the needs of the many wasn’t always the best justification for an action, but it didn’t make the fact that the Hollowed Grounds needed leadership any less salient. However, Loren had argued with Remi about putting others’ needs before the alchemist’s own, and didn’t want to go down that road again.
It helped that the other man was very, very wrong about one very, very obvious fact. ”No. They don’t need Ronin, at least not specifically. They need a ruler who they can believe in, who they want to follow, and who is a good person, and sane, and will do right by them. Ronin is all those things. But you’re mistaken in believing that Ronin is the only one who can do it. Surely there are others out there who fit those criteria.” Loren obviously wouldn’t point this out (because it would just freak the other man out) but Remi fit all those criteria, and more. The fact that the other man would clearly declare himself unworthy was just another positive. It would never happen, though, unless the alchemist had changed more than the summoner knew. Or unless someone made a particularly persuasive argument.
Listening with dawning worry as the other man listed all the things the king, queen, and alchemist still needed to get done Loren wondered just when the transition had happened. He’d known it was recent, but he would’ve thought a bit more planning would’ve gone into it all. ”Remi, deciding how things should run and what the laws are is basically the whole point of government. That’s all of it.” The Launceleyn couldn’t help the incredulity he felt from spilling out, so he took a deep breath and tried to channel it in a more productive direction. ”How are you going to figure all of that out without a desk?” Putting as much mock horror and exasperation in his voice as he could manage, Loren considered the problem facing the monarchs. It might be minor, but it would help them deal with everything else. At the very least, the librarian could do that much. ”I can come in and set up an actual office and try to organize what I can if you think it would help.” It seemed like every little bit might be useful at this point.
Thankfully, magic and monsters were much easier to discuss than politics. Loren just nodded distractedly at Remi’s repetition of the name. ”That’s right.” Given that the other man was completely accurate about the awkwardness of their last meeting and who was to blame, the librarian just nodded again to concede that point: he was still too busy studying the shift to pay attention to much else.
As the alchemist responded that he had indeed not only stung something, but shot barbs from his tail, Loren stepped around so that he could look at the scorpion part more closely. ”That tracks with the stories. Be careful with that. The stinger and barbs are supposed to contain an incredibly potent venom.” The books didn’t say exactly what it did to victims, but they were in agreement on that much.
Coming back around to the front as Remi settled down and brought the tail away from the librarian, Loren crouched slightly so their faces were on the same level. ”Worth looking into, when we have more time.” The fact that the alchemist didn’t have summoning magic but could still do this was a wonder. The Launceleyn blinked when the other man brought up additional shifts, confused by the comment. ”Oh right...the paws?” He vaguely remembered Remi demonstrating that, but in the moment it hadn’t seemed nearly as important as the drama between them.
A beggar's book
outworths
a noble's blood
