Rise of The Regent

POV: Garrett

Jack’s words hit me like a wave, their implications vast and immediate. Alexandra, as Regent, taking on the responsibilities and power that I wasn’t yet prepared to handle. The idea was both a relief and a burden. Relief, because she was capable and strong; a burden, because it highlighted my own inadequacies.

"Why would they think she is ready?" I asked, puzzled, my brows knitting together as I tried to grasp the logic behind their decision.

He stared into the flickering flames of the fireplace, his eyes reflecting the dancing light. "Listen," he began, his voice a low rumble, "I wasn't the one who came up with this idea, but I can't say it wasn't a good one." He paused, the crackle of the fire filling the silence. "We have the Gathering coming up shortly. We all believe you can handle the politics of it, so you will be sent as our King, of course. The reason is what you asked for, though. The reason is that we all got to watch her handle this silly little competition Lucien put on. It was impressive."

I furrowed my brow at Jack, my skepticism clear. "Why do you think it was silly? It seemed like a measured decision to me."

He chuckled, the sound tinged with incredulity, shaking his head as if I had asked the most obvious question in the world. "Anyone with eyes could see Alexandra was the most suitable to rule at his side, yet he made that decision before he even met her. A true measured approached would have been to wait to meet all eligible ladies in the kingdom before setting anything in place. I understand that he wanted to avoid a fight amongst the families but House of Batiste boasts the second most power in the land. If chose her, not many could challenge that. I think if he had only waited, you’d be with Rayla and he would be preparing for a wedding with our exquisite Alexandra. Now he finds regret in his decision."

His gaze softened, a wistful smile playing on his lips. "She’s a natural, born to be royal. I think no matter how you look at it, she was destined to marry and be Queen to a King. We just happen to be the lucky kingdom who gets her. Lucien was foolish, indeed. You have been very lucky Your Majesty."

He fell silent, his hand absently stroking his lips as he stared into the fire, lost in quiet contemplation. The flames danced and crackled, casting a warm, golden glow that flickered across his thoughtful face. The room was filled with a comfortable silence, punctuated only by the occasional pop of burning wood.

His eyes were distant, likely envisioning how Alexandra would make a good Queen to the lycans despite not being one herself. The firelight reflected the depth of his belief in her, a quiet confidence that seemed to radiate from his very being. I wondered how many others shared his faith. My father had always spoken highly of her, his admiration clear, but did it extend to her potential to rule? That was a question that gnawed at me, a question that needed an answer.

I wanted to talk to him later, to gauge his true feelings about this monumental decision. The uncertainty was a weight on my mind, and I needed to know if he was truly on board with all of this.

I sighed, frustration evident in my voice. “So they want her as Regent. Do I get a say in this? Does she?” My words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of my concern.

He glanced back at me, his expression softening slightly. “Of course you both get a say. I would expect you to leave here and discuss this with her before you both come to the meeting. So, if you don’t mind, let’s get started on what you’ve already learned and what you can learn today.”

I clenched my fists, feeling a surge of protectiveness. “I know Alexandra well, even in the short time we've spent together. She doesn’t want decisions made for her. I can't go into a meeting to decide her future without her say so. I promised her that I would respect her wishes always, and I intend to keep that promise.”

His gaze returned to the fire, the flames reflecting his inner turmoil. “It’s complicated,” he said softly. “The council sees her as a symbol of power which we so desperately need going into the Gathering. With Seely coming, we also need to bolster her prestige and protection. But you’re right. She deserves to make her own choices.”

I nodded, a sense of determination settling over me. “Then we need to talk to her. She needs to know what’s at stake and what’s being decided in her name.”

The fire crackled, sending a shower of sparks up the chimney, mirroring the fiery resolve building within me. This was more than just a political maneuver; it was about respecting Alexandra's autonomy and ensuring her voice was heard. I wouldn’t let her be blindsided by this.

He nodded and lightly slapped the arms of the chair before rising and striding over to his desk. “Now, that’s enough of that chat for now. Let’s get started.” He gestured to the chair in front of the desk, and I sat down, feeling the weight of the situation pressing on my shoulders.

He picked up a pen and looked at me with an intensity that made the air feel thick. “Now, I know you were probably told about the twelve steps. Have you manifested any abilities?”

I shrugged, not willing to give up the information so quickly. “You should know what those twelve steps are. You tell me what they are, and I’ll tell you if I manifested them.”

He dropped his pen with a loud clatter, his eyes narrowing in irritation. “You’re pissed, aren’t you?”

I smacked the chair hard, the sound echoing in the room. “You’re damn right. I think this shit is ridiculous with the need for lessons and the cryptic bullshit. To top it all off, now you and that fucking council are trying to throw my wife to the wolves. Pun intended.”

He sighed deeply and leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples. “I get it. It must be a lot to deal with the realization you’re to take on a role you were never prepared for. Not to mention you love her and want to protect her from it all. Reality is a harsh thing, though. You need to adapt, Garrett. Look at Alexandra; she’s had so much happen to her, but she carries on well. That is really who you need to learn your biggest lesson from.”

His words hung in the air, the gravity of his advice sinking into my mind. The fire crackled softly in the background, its warmth a stark contrast to the cold, hard truth we were grappling with. I took a deep breath, trying to steady my racing thoughts, and met his gaze with renewed determination.

“Whatever,” I spat out, the words dripping with frustration. “Let’s just get on with it.”

He picked up the pen again, his patience seemingly endless. “What have you manifested?” he asked once more, his tone firm but not unkind.

I leaned forward, glaring at him. “You never answered my question, though. Don’t you know?”

He shook his head slowly, the firelight casting shadows on his face. “Every King manifests unique twelve steps. Each King manifested abilities that would be needed for the time. Fate gives you what you need to rule well. Now, what, if any, steps have you manifested?”

I took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions swirling inside me. “Okay, I manifested an ability to mindlink to any canines. I could communicate with Alexandra’s shadow dog, Sebastian.”

His eyes lit up with curiosity, a spark of genuine interest breaking through his composed exterior. “Fascinating!” he exclaimed, quickly scribbling down the information into a journal. The scratch of his pen against the paper filled the room, a sharp contrast to the crackling of the fire.

As he wrote, I watched his face, seeing the wheels turning in his mind. There was something reassuring in his focus, a sense that maybe, just maybe, he understood the gravity of what we were dealing with.

He looked up from his work, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Did Conan confirm this with you?”

I nodded, feeling a bit of the tension ease from my shoulders. “Yeah, he did.”

He nodded in return and went back to documenting the ability I had just shared. The scratching of the pen against the paper was a comforting, familiar sound, like the ticking of a clock in a quiet room. He looked up at me again, his expression expectant. “Anything else?”

I hesitated, my thoughts drifting to the oils I had given Alexandra for her bath. I remembered how her memory had miraculously returned, but I decided against mentioning it. We didn’t know for sure if it was the oil that had cured her, and I didn’t want to jump to conclusions. I shook my head, “No, I think that’s it for now.”

He sighed, a sound heavy with the weight of unmet expectations. “This is going to be slow going, then. The last King manifested two abilities in a day. It took him about a week to be named crown prince. You’re lucky you don’t have to compete for it.”

I sighed, feeling the weight of the impending process settle heavily on my shoulders. The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of the fireplace casting flickering shadows on the walls. The scent of aged parchment and ink filled the air, a constant reminder of the centuries of tradition and history we were about to disrupt.

He cleared his throat, the sound echoing slightly in the vast chamber, and moved on to the first lesson. His voice was steady and authoritative as he began detailing the coronation process. "If some in the council have their way," he said, a hint of cynicism lacing his words, "you’ll get to witness it firsthand."

I couldn't help but feel a pang of anxiety gnawing at my insides. Making Alexandra the Regent was a decision fraught with uncertainty. She had no inkling of what was being planned, and I dreaded the moment she would find out. Would it blindside her as much as it had me?

My thoughts were interrupted as he continued, his voice droning on about the rites and rituals. I struggled to focus, my mind swirling with doubts and questions. How would Alexandra react? Could she handle the immense responsibility being thrust upon her?

"Do you have any questions?" he asked, his gaze piercing through the dim light to meet mine. His eyes, sharp and discerning, seemed to see right through my facade of calm.

I shook my head slowly, forcing a weak smile. "No, not right now," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper. The knot in my stomach tightened, and I sighed once more, bracing myself for the long, drawn-out process ahead.

He wrapped up the lecture and smiled, a warm, genuine expression that made the tension in the room dissipate slightly. “Did you want to hang out for a while? I feel like we need to catch up and be friends again since it has been some time since we spoke about life.”

He strode back over to the fireplace but stopped midway, turning to me with a familiar twinkle in his eye. “Want a drink?”

I nodded, grateful for the offer. “Whiskey, please.”

He nodded and poured two glasses, the amber liquid catching the firelight as he handed one to me. We settled in front of the fireplace, the heat from the flames a comforting contrast to the coolness of the day. He took a sip and leaned back, his gaze steady. “How was the first night with Alexandra at the annex?”

I smiled, a flood of memories washing over me. “Eventful. You probably heard about the Rayla attack.”

He frowned, nodding in agreement. “These afflicted are getting ridiculous. Lucien needs to reign it in, or we will have to be formal in our complaint about our future Queen being attacked. That’s another topic of conversation tonight.”

We continued to chat, the conversation flowing easily as we caught up on life and all its complications. The warmth of the whiskey and the crackling fire created a cocoon of camaraderie and nostalgia. Just as I was beginning to feel completely at ease, a familiar ethereal wind gusted through the room, a sure sign that Conan was about to show up.

I glanced at Jack, who was sitting next to me, and held up a finger. “Quiet, Jack. Conan is here.”

Jack clammed up immediately, his eyes widening as he stared at me. Conan's presence was always a mixture of awe and mystery. I turned to the apparition, feeling a mix of anticipation and curiosity. “What’s up, Conan?”

Conan spoke softly, his voice like a gentle breeze carrying profound truths. “I came to tell you the second step was achieved. You healed your wife’s broken memories with a latent ability we call Healing Touch. The kiss you gave her brought back the memories she had lost.”