Keepers of the Moon

Chapter 5. The broken King (2)

I slowly started walking toward the castle, using the snow as a cover. The visit was unexpectedly early. He wasn’t supposed to arrive until two days later. The news that the High-Queen of Keltia was still alive must’ve driven him here. He wanted to meet me. From the place I was standing I could sense his unease and his unravelling feelings. The fear of losing his country, the impotence in his position. He hated me, he wanted to get rid of me. He knew I had the power to take back his country. He also knew, just as I knew, that if I were to take back Caledonia it would mean further destabilisation. I couldn’t even blame him for the hate, he didn’t know me. All he heard about me was coming from lady Macintosh and lady McCulloch and they spoke of me like I was some sort of god and the magical solution for every thinkable problem. I knew better and he needed to know that too.

The opportunity to show him that I was just a human was unfolding in front of me. As King Domhnall was reaching the extended hand of sir Macintosh I picked up my pace, so I would meet them before they disappeared inside the castle. One of the security men from the last car saw me approaching and held up his hand. I just waved at him, which drew the attention from Lady McCulloch. She drew a face, my appearance was not approved by her. Even though she resented it, she informed the secret service that I was a friend and he withdrew his upheld hand. McCulloch looked at me with suspicion in her eyes, as if she tried to tell me to stay away. But I wasn’t going to back down, I needed Domhnall to see me the way I was.

Lady Macintosh noticed me too and though she didn’t show her disapproval, I could tell she didn’t like it either. Sir Macintosh however could barely hold in his laughter when he saw me. He saw the opportunity, just as I did.

‘We hadn’t expected you just yet, Your Highness. We are unprepared.’ Sir Macintosh sounded exasperated and even a little annoyed. Though I doubted whether someone else could hear that.

‘You tell me someone pretending to be the queen resides here and you don’t expect me to come by and see this lie for myself. I know very well you don’t like me on the throne.’ Domhnall’s voice was cold and regal. He looked older than the last time I saw him, there was a considerate amount of grey in his hair. He was rocking a short, but nicely kept beard and wore a neat tuxedo. He truly looked like a King, a strong King. I couldn’t help but feel some relief that he at least was trying to look strong and in control.

Sir Macintosh, who had chosen to ignore the harsh words of Domhnall, turned away from the King and toward me. I gave a small nod, to tell him that he could proceed.

‘Mo Bhean na Mara, I believe you have seen King Domhnall before.’

He turned around so quickly that he nearly lost balance. I nodded curtly to him and extended my hand. He didn’t take it. Just looked at me, calculating, disdainful. He was feeling underwhelmed, somewhat reassured, but still hate lingered.

‘Your Queen is a child?’ He scowled.

‘King Domhnall, I can assure you I am older than I look.’ I gestured for him to move inside the castle, away from the roaring winds and the falling snow. And after the doors were shut, everything seemed to calm down. Even some of Domhnall’s tension waned. I decided against physically pushing his tension away, I needed him to trust me. If needed be I could always use my powers to convince him about who I was. But for now, this was not necessary.

People bowed curtly when we passed, though they seemed just as surprised as Sir Macintosh was at the sight of the King. Some shot an incredulous look toward me. I couldn’t blame them, they all knew how I liked to hide myself from the world. They also knew that I would never take back the throne, so seeing Domhnall and I together was bound to raise some eyebrows.

‘They all know?’ Domhnall was observant.

Sir Macintosh opened his mouth and then shut it unable to form an answer. I could feel his rising anger and his growing unease. I wished I could take it all away, but Domhnall was as hostile as ever.

‘Some do. Those who have been working here for a long time are told eventually. I am not very keen on letting the world know I exist, neither do I want to pull away any authority from the Kings and Queens that have ruled Keltia and Caledonia. When I am home for longer periods of time, the circle is reduced to only the necessary personnel. The longer I stay, the more people need to know.’

‘And exactly how long is that this time?’

’30 years, 11 months and 5 days, since I’ve last stepped foot on my home.’ Sean looked over at me, his eyes sharing an understanding that was rare even from him.

‘This is not your home?’

Domhnall’s expression was unreadable, though I could feel he thought there was a chance that he could stay in control.

‘It once was, Keltia and Caledonia will always be close to my heart, but I haven’t called it home for a very long time.’

We reached a highly decorated conference room, where coffee was handed out. I sat down, while a disgruntled Domhnall remained standing. Lady McCulloch also chose to stand, both Lady and Sir Macintosh sat down next to me. Sean had an empty look on his face, unsure how to feel besides angry. The ladies were not so much angry as tense. McCulloch kept swallowing and wiping her sweaty hands on her skirt, Macintosh’s mouth was reduced to a thin line.

‘How long is that exactly?’

I folded my hands and placed them on the table, while my coffee was steaming away in front of me.

‘For 1110 years.’     

This was such an oddly specific number that it drew the attention from everybody around the table. Sir Macintosh raised his eyebrows. I had never told them where my home was, or why it became my home. They didn’t know that I had married someone. The only one I ever shared a connection with, which was more important than my connection to the ocean. The only one who ever truly understood me. He shared that drive of going away, of discovering the world. He was as restless as I was.

‘So I am supposed to believe that you are what? 1100 years old?’

‘1197 to be precise, born in 824.’