Steel and Sorrow: Rise of the Mercenary king

Talek walked in a world of color.

He had never stepped foot in the royal garden, at least not this one, the new one.

The once rather unimpressive royal garden , the prince had ordered expanded, reshaped, and overgrown with exotic blooms and foreign trees, was a small forest of cultivated beauty. Word had it that the prince loved his nightly walks here. That rumor, at least, now Talek realized, was true.

Because he was walking beside him now.

He had been stunned when Alpheo himself appeared at the door of his chamber, not with a guard or attendant but alone, and asked in his calm, unhurried voice if he would care to join him for a walk.

Talek had only been able to nod.

Now, under the haze of soft moonlight and amid the scent of wild flowers and damp earth, he followed in the prince's quiet steps.

What struck him most was the pace, Alpheo walked slowly, almost meditatively. Talek had expected more from the conqueror of Herculia, like the hurried demeanor of lightning in an open sky.

And yet here, in this garden, his steps were deliberate. Gentle. Every two paces he would pause, sometimes to run his fingers over the velvety petal of a flower, other times to simply lift his head to the sky.

Talek mirrored him, lifting his own gaze upward.

The moon was there, partially veiled behind passing clouds. It wasn't even full. There was nothing especially brilliant about it. If anything, it was a plain night sky, silent and gray.

His eyes drifted sideways, to the prince. He caught the look on his face, one of stillness and something almost like reverence. A quiet awe that Talek could not decipher. Something was shining in Alpheo's gaze, a kind of admiration that did not belong to a battlefield or a throne room.

What does he see? Talek wondered. What am I missing?He stared harder at the moon, as if willing it to speak.

But it didn't. And he felt… nothing.

His gaze must have lingered for too long, because after a moment, Alpheo's eyes left the sky and met his. The glimmer in them dulled just slightly, as if the spell had broken. Talek felt like a boy caught staring through a keyhole, ashamed for reasons he couldn't name.

Then Alpheo spoke, his voice low and thoughtful, touched with a smile.

"Isn't the moon beautiful?"

Talek glanced up again. It wasn't. It was obscured. Pale. Forgettable.

But he lied."Yes... it is., Your Grace."

Alpheo didn't press, didn't laugh. He looked back up and spoke again, almost to himself.

"For as long as I can remember… no matter what city I was in, or what war I slept beside, the moon was always there."He paused. "Everything else may have changed or will change .But not that. She was always with me, above every night to accompany me."

Talek said nothing. He wanted to ask more, to know what meaning Alpheo drew from something so distant and cold.

Wasn't the moon there for everyone?Why would it be his?

But the words never came. It felt like one of those things that would lose its weight if tugged too hard.

So he said nothing at all.

He after all, had no knowledge of that small window in the tall tower.

As such, he could not understand the prince's longing.

Talek stirred from the tangle of his thoughts when he noticed the prince beckoning him closer with a subtle crook of his finger, his nose dipped into a blossom, his lips curved upward in quiet delight. The soft light of the moon caught on his dark hair and the edge of his jaw, and for the first time in Talek's memory, the man looked younger than he had any right to.

Wordlessly, Talek stepped forward. And always wordlessly, Alpheo leaned the flower toward him, presenting it like a small offering.

Taking the cue, Talek bent forward and mimicked the prince, drawing in a breath through his nose.

"Very pleasant to the nose, isn't it?" Alpheo asked softly, his fingers still gently holding the stem.

"Yes, Your Grace. It smells… wonderful," Talek replied, straightening himself.

He lied. He couldn't smell anything at all, perhaps a faint, bitter sweetness, but nothing worth comment. Nothing that made sense of the prince's small, serene smile.

Did they live in the same world? Was there something wrong in him?

Alpheo looked at him, and for a heartbeat too long, his gaze lingered. There was something unreadable in the way his eyes studied Talek's face, as if searching for something not yet spoken. But the moment passed. The prince turned away.

"It's unfortunate that it's evening," Alpheo murmured, turning the flower in his fingers with delicate care. "If it were day, we could have watched the bees."

Talek, feeling the pull to say something, glanced back up at the sky.

"But if it weren't evening," Talek said, "we wouldn't have seen such a beautiful moon."

Alpheo's eyes returned to him, and a smile lifted his mouth again, though this time it wasn't the gentle, glowing smile of before. It was thinner.

"Of course," he said. "But still, I would've liked to see the bees."

He let the flower fall back into place and stepped away from it, his hands clasped behind his back as he began to walk again, slowly, without urgency, as if pacing thoughts.

"They're wonderful creatures, you know," he said, his voice growing more reflective. "Bees live in such order. Their hives are like our societies. Every one of them has a task, a duty, a role. There's no confusion, no waste. One gathers pollen, one guards the hive, another tends to the queen. They work with precision. They die with purpose and meaning."

Talek walked beside him, watching his profile in the moonlight.

"And when they land on flowers," the prince continued, "they do more than feed. They carry pollen, spreading life from bloom to bloom, helping others grow. They don't even know they're doing it. But they are."

Talek blinked, caught between admiration and a quiet bewilderment."I didn't know that."

"Few do," Alpheo said, his voice now barely more than breath. Then, in a lighter tone, he added: "They even give us honey. What isn't there to admire?"

Talek smiled faintly."We should aspire to be bees, then."

Alpheo gave a small chuckle, the sound rolling low from his chest."You don't even know the start of it." He paused under the low-hanging branches of a tree, then turned to face Talek fully. "In many ways, we already are."

He raised a hand, ticking off points with each finger."Farmers provide grain and meat. Artisans shape stone and wood. Merchants bring spices and goods from distant lands. Soldiers protect the hive, and rulers…" he paused, eyes glinting "…well, rulers keep the rhythm. We all labor. We all serve the hive, whether we know it or not.''

"You can achieve far more when everything is where it should be," he said, his voice even, thoughtful. "It is our strength, our duty, even to bring order to what is otherwise chaos. To make sense of what defies it."

His hand brushed another flower absently, his fingers light, reverent.

"Many call me a hard man. A demanding one. Others think I am generous, merciful." He paused to inhale the scent of the bloom, then exhaled slowly, like it calmed something old in him. "The truth is that I am none of those, and all of them at once. I demand from others according to their skill, and I give back in measure to what I demand."

He resumed his slow pace, the gravel crunching gently beneath his boots.

"The men who hold power now in this princedom are the ones who stood with me from the beginning. They cast their swords into an uncertain cause when they could have run, could have started new lives, far from here. But they stayed."

His voice, though still calm, began to carry a subtle weight, as if speaking of sacred oaths.

"To them, I have given everything I could. Because everything I now hold… was won with what they gave me."

They reached a fork in the path, one leading toward a small bench under a willow, the other toward a deeper grove. Alpheo turned toward the denser path without hesitation, his tone shifting slightly as he continued

"To the nobles that came with my wife's inheritance, I asked only for duty and loyalty. Those who gave it are now honored and lives in peace. Those who did not…" He gave a small shrug. "I crushed like vermins."

He stopped again, this time turning fully to Talek. The garden was quiet around them, the moonlight soft on the prince's angular features.

"If I give much to a man," he said slowly, "it is because he gave more to me. And if I expect something of someone…" He tilted his head. "…then rest assured, a proper reward waits."

There was a pause, a stillness that seemed to thicken the air between them.

"And in light of everything I've just said…" he murmured, his eyes never leaving Talek's, "I have a question for you."

Talek lowered his head and bowed deeply, the gesture instinctive. His voice was steady, if unsure."Ask it, Your Grace. I will answer as best I can."

For a heartbeat, Alpheo said nothing as he just stared at him.

Then he finally asked

"Why do you lie to me?"