Talios-Chapter 40: Habit

As the royal prince, little was expected of him today as he sat quietly beside his father, surrounded by a sea of people, his grandfather’s corpse laid bare before him. It had not been covered. His grandfather simply lay there, face intact, unchanged, everything as it had always been, and Ajab found himself wondering why the man would not simply stand up. No matter how he looked at it, the body appeared to be sleeping—except it did not share the air they breathed. As though the man were too elevated to make use of such small, common air. Perhaps he had his own, for he certainly was not using theirs.

He was still—far too still.

There was nothing remarkable about the sending-off, nor the wake. To Ajab, it was simply a torment: staring at a lifeless body, surrounded by officials frozen in solemn stillness, while officiating eunuchs passed incense. It was a wonder no one choked. Yet ceremony named it what it was. This was mourning.

For most of it, there was silence. Then, gradually, time moved on, and the first day of mourning drew to a close—at least this portion of it.

The King rose first, as was expected, and the Prince followed. Only after they had exited did the Queen and the remaining officials begin to move.

Once they cleared the hall and entered the passageway, the King turned to Ajab, his voice even.

"Seems we’ll be seeing each other later."

Ajab bowed as his father departed, disappearing down one corridor, escorted by a barrage of eunuchs. He glanced behind himself to see who would be escorting him—and found no one.

Just because he preferred being left to himself did not mean they had to abandon him so blatantly.

As he headed toward his chambers, he spotted Liah and the rest of his attendants waiting ahead. He nodded. It seemed he had spoken too soon.

They bowed as he drew near. He stopped directly before Liah, fixing his gaze on her without a word. He hadn’t seen her since morning—an oddity. Sensing his attention, she spoke without lifting her head, as he had not yet passed.

"Is everything alright, Your Highness?"

He narrowed his eyes slightly.

"I haven’t seen you since morning."

She smiled, a hint of teasing in it.

"Was Your Highness looking for me?"

Okay, now he wasn’t interested in knowing anymore.

"No," he said as he began moving.

Her smile did not fade.

"I was attending to the Young Lord."

He stopped and turned back.

"What happened to Elmah?"

His father had brushed the matter aside, but this was the second time someone had mentioned Elmah and being taken care of in the same sentence. He needed to know. Elmah had been perfectly fine the last time he’d seen him.

"The Young Lord collapsed last night."

Ajab’s brows knit tightly.

"And why would he collapse?"

Or was this becoming some sort of routine?

"He had overexerted himself—himself and his eyes," she said.

"Overexerted? His eyes?"

Liah nodded calmly. That was her honest answer.

"What does—" he stopped himself. If Elmah had collapsed from overexerting his eyes, it was better to hear it from Elmah himself. He turned and resumed walking.

"And where is he now?" His pace did not slow.

"He’s still receiving treatment. The Physician says he must remain stabilized, so he’s been asked to stay still in his chambers."

Ajab’s eyes narrowed.

"To stay still?"

"Yes." Liah nodded.

"In his chambers?"

"Yes." She nodded once more. 𝗳𝚛𝚎𝚎𝘄𝕖𝕓𝕟𝕠𝚟𝚎𝕝.𝗰𝕠𝐦

"Really?"

He wasn’t sure what condition Elmah was in, but he doubted stillness was among his talents.

"Alright then," he said quietly.

The walk back to his chambers was long, but compared to what his father had subjected him to, it felt shorter now. When they reached his doors, Ajab veered instead toward Elmah’s chambers. He wanted to see him himself.

On his entering, he asked without looking back,

"Was he left alone?"

"No," Liah answered promptly.

"Someone was assigned to watch over him."

"Hm." As the doors opened, what he saw was unsurprising—yet unsettling all the same.

The chamber was empty. At its center lay a long cushion, foreign to the room’s design—unmistakably what they had laid Elmah upon. It too was vacant. His bed offered no better answer. The truth presented itself at once: Elmah was gone.

An attendant was crouched low, peering beneath the bed, worry etched into her face—that only confirmed it. But why under the bed? Was Elmah meant to be there?

Noticing his entrance, the maid stopped her savaging and bowed deeply.

Liah addressed her at once, concern unmistakable in her tone.

"Why is the room empty? Where is the Young Lord?"

The maid answered, her face tight with worry.

"I don’t know. He was here one moment, and the next he was gone. I’ve searched everywhere—there’s nothing."

Ajab wasn’t sure whether to trust her search, given that she had thought to look under the bed—or perhaps that alone made her thorough. Then again, an under-the-bed Elmah was something he would pay to witness.

There was nothing surprising in any of this. Finding Elmah here would have been the true anomaly. Ajab turned his back and moved to leave.

Even so, concern lingered on how Elmah was faring.

At the entrance to his chambers, he turned back to Liah.

"You don’t have to follow me in. I’m fine. I don’t want company."

Liah understood his request. Grief often demanded solitude, and His Highness had earned that right. Still, leaving him alone felt wrong—but the resolve in his eyes ended the matter. She bowed and led the others away.

His chamber had already been tidied, the bed neatly made. He sighed and walked toward the balcony. It wasn’t midnight, yet it felt like it. Night had fallen, the moon already high. Strange how the day had slipped by unnoticed.

At the balcony’s entrance, he realized he was not alone.

A figure stood at the far right edge, eyes fixed on the sky, hands folded behind their back. The instant Ajab stepped in, the figure looked down at him—eyes blazing blue, bright enough to be mistaken for flame, yet sharp enough to feel like a blade cutting straight through him.

"Is it because I haven’t started carrying impaling knives that you keep doing this?" Ajab asked, hands clasped behind his back, gaze steady.

"Does Your Highness want to start walking around with impaling knives?" the figure asked, the hue of his eyes still brilliant as he wondered why that had anything to do with him. He bowed in greeting nonetheless.

"At this point, don’t you think I should?" Ajab said. "How many more times will you keep appearing in my chambers—lurking in corners, throwing those unnecessary glares, Elmah?"

His voice stayed level, though the vein at his temple pulsed openly. Though it didn’t matter in this situation.

"Your Highness isn’t being clear," he replied calmly. "And I don’t keep appearing. I’ve been here for a while now."

Ajab raised an eyebrow.

"You truly don’t see the point I’m making?"

Elmah blinked, his gaze steady and unflinching.

"Does Your Highness have words for me?"

Ajab looked at him with resignation.

"And why would I?" he said, striding toward the center of the balcony where he often stood.

The corner Elmah had stood in was starved of light, and Ajab hadn’t noticed until he reached the center of the balcony.

"Are you in bandages?"

His arms were wrapped, cloth trailing from his feet. Even his face had not been spared—only the front left bare, everything else concealed beneath layers.

"I also meant to ask—what’s going on with you? Is collapsing becoming a habit now?"

Elmah’s eyes narrowed.

"The only consistent element in my sudden losses of awareness has been Your Highness’s presence," he said evenly. "So I’ll ask—what did you do to me this time?"

"Huh?" Ajab’s eyes narrowed. What exactly was this one implying now?

"I have no idea what you’re talking about."

"The duel. Then the palace hall. Both incidents happened around Your Highness."

Ajab laughed—a sharp, humorless sound."So now you’ll blame me for sleeping every time you get the chance?"

"I never slept," Elmah replied flatly.

"But you woke up afterward—both times, didn’t you?"

"That doesn’t mean I slept."

"Elmah, it very well could. And can you guess who’s always nearby during these your doze offs?"

"I don’t doze," he insisted, his face deadpan.

Ignoring the insistence entirely, Ajab went on.

"You. You’re the only constant in all of this. How do you explain that?" He touched his chin thoughtfully. "Father claims I knocked you out during the duel, but I remember nothing of the sort. And beyond that—what exactly did I do to you in the palace hall?"

"Your Highness doesn’t know what he did?"

Ajab squeezed his face, his eyes dropping. "Are you calling me senile, saying I did something that I claim to have no idea about?"

Elmah raised an eyebrow.

"Is Your Highness calling himself senile by saying that?"

"It—" Ajab paused, eyes lifting briefly. "It doesn’t apply to me when I say it."

Elmah squinted, visibly lost. His Highness was overloading him now, as he could barely understand what was being said anymore.