Chapter 10: Smokes and Mirrors 

Eric was forced to push aside his nervousness as other noblemen entered. They were all part of the esteemed council, so they forwent any sort of formalities as they entered, though Eric tended to be ignored. His position was awkward among the 12 as an Earl, he was seated in the middle.

The King's chair was at the right end of the table with the window behind them. His chair was certainly special compared to the rest, with beautiful gold ornaments adorning its top and the legs of the chair but the cushions remained a modest dark maroon. Closest to the kings were empty chairs that belonged to Lord Macabre and Lord Wythe.

Unlike Lord Wythe who decided to leave before the meeting had begun, Lord Macabre was often absent from meetings.

He managed Daijaya's harbour and its many ports. It was a considerable distance to travel to the palace so the only time Eric has ever seen him was during birthdays that only happen every blue moon. That was three years ago.

Lord Watherson was the only one who acknowledged his greeting with a kind, "Good morning." While the others took their seats before beginning to chat with one another, unanimously excluding Eric from their conversation.

The king usually arrives right after the last councillor enters, but that was not the case that day. He did not show up even 15 minutes past 9. Once 30 minutes have passed, Lord Rolzaphor, who sat on Eric's left was getting impatient. His pudgy face didn't bother to conceal the irritation that bubbled beneath his skin like the steam that was starting to condense at his philtrum.

"Where is his majesty? What is the point of keeping us away from our duties for so long?" He began to raise his voice at no one in particular.

Lord Jacques who sat opposite Lord Rolzaphor showed no sign of discomfort as if it were the norm. His slit-like eyes revealed only a fraction of his mysterious blues as he maintained an unnerving stare with a glaring Lord Rolzaphor, who wisely looked away, albeit petulantly after a moment.

Then, there was a firm knock on the door. Everyone stood up and glanced towards the door synchronously, but the King was not waiting for them.

Instead, a royal guard with most of his face obstructed by his helmet entered the room with a low bow.

"I've come to deliver a message by His Majesty, my lords."

"Oh for Aqua's sake," Lord Rozalphor grumbled.

"His Majesty declared that today's meeting is cancelled. If my lords have no other business, we shall escort you out of the palace," said the soldier after he straightened.

"What?" Lord Rozalphor had an edge to his words. He must feel insulted that they were made to wait for no reason and for the meeting to be cancelled without an explanation. Eric noticed Rozalphor wasn't the only one to appear displeased by this news. Even Lord Jacques's usual off-putting serene smile was starting to look a little contorted.

"Did His majesty say anything else?" asked Lord Rozalphor.

The soldier stoically replied, "No, my lord."

Lady Ryudarah simply picked up her skirt with one hand and left wordlessly with a book that she'd been reading in her hand. Other councillors like Lord Monkshood, Lord Quill, Lord Jacques and Lord Flos followed suit.

Lord Kolfor gestured for the soldier to enter and began conversing softly with the soldier. The conversation was spoken in the Aquaterra dialect, only dragons of water clans were able to understand them. It was also known as the King's Tongue by other citizens.

Whatever was being spoken was none of Eric's concern, because his complexion had paled drastically since the dismissal of the council. The premonition in his stomach was like a butterfly trying to come out of its cocoon because those words spoken by Lord Wythe couldn't be a coincidence.

He had no materials on the table, so once he'd realised most of the councillors had left, he knew better than to stay so he too was about to leave when he accidentally bumped into Lord Rolzalphor in his haste.

"Watch it, filthy human."

Eric locked eyes with Lord Rozalphor's electric blues which conveyed an indeterminable amount of disgust that caused him to back up and hit the back of his knee on his chair. Eric winced, but Lord Rozalphor took it as fear.

"Is there an issue, Lord Kolfor?" came a voice from the other side of the table.

Eric glanced over to find Lord Huzein loudly interrupting the whispered conversation between the soldier and Lord Kolfor.

"It's nothing," answered Lord Kolfor, who dismissed the soldier that he had been speaking to earlier.

Lord Huzein didn't seem convinced. He raised a single bushy black brow as he said, "We are all part of the esteemed council. If it concerns the king, it shouldn't be kept a secret from us."

Lord Kolfor was physically taller than Lord Huzein, so he had to tuck his chin in to see him eye to eye. Both of them were marquesses, so they had an equal amount of power. Even so, the look on Lord Huzein's eyes appeared more patronizing than Lord Kolfor's.

"I don't know what you are talking about," Lord Kolfor said. "Or perhaps you have something to share with us?" He mocked.

Lord Huzein's aloof persona didn't budge, he chuckled. "Nonsense. My closet of skeletons is of my own concern, as they don't endanger the crown."

It was at this point Lord Rozalphor hobbled next to Lord Huzein.

"Please excuse me, my lords, I couldn't help but overhear you, but does that mean His Majesty cancelled today's meeting because he's in danger?"

Lord Kolfor's expression darkened at the interruption, but he wasn't given a chance to speak when Lord Huzein continued, "I certainly hope not. His Majesty is the strongest among all of us, aside from Lord Wythe and Lord Kolfor of course. If he is in danger, I fear what would await the fate of our kingdom."

"Now my lords, we shouldn't get impulsive with our assumptions," Eric couldn't help but chime in when Lord Kolfor's face morphed into that of an angered beast.

"Exactly. Lord Kolfor is a man of honour and would naturally ensure the safety of the crown. I'm sure he has his own ways to see to it," seconded Lord Watherson.

Eric's eyes flickered over to Lord Watherson and saw the mirage of a righteous man who thoroughly believed the truth in his own words. However, the wording was off by a millimetre and Lord Rozalphor wasn't going to let it off the hook.

"A "man", you say? Certainly, "humans" would know of honour more than dragons do," he sneered.

Lord Watherson blinked owlishly, as if not anticipating such an accusation. "Lord Ro-" He started, but wasn't allowed to continue.

"It seems to be a commonly shared trait for humans," he stressed the word as if it irked him greatly, "to forget their positions and interrupt Marques Huzein."

Lord Huzein didn't bat an eye at Lord Rozalphor's words, but he didn't deny them either. He simply watched the entire scene unfold with an aloof gait.

Thankfully, Lord Kolfor couldn't stand the bickering any longer.

"Can we cease this sort of childish fighting in the palace?" The bark in his voice made the noise die down instantly.

He openly glared at Lord Huzein and declared, "The king is safe, and my men will make sure of that. For the lot of you, you best watch your own backs. The kingdom has not enough resources to wipe your arse if you do get in trouble."

Lord Kolfor pushed past all of them and made his way to the door, leaving no room for further argument.

"How crude, as expected of a military man," muttered Lord Rozalphor.

Lord Huzein shook his head forlornly as if he were an elder that had to put up with a misbehaving child. "The weight of his majesty's condition leans heavily on his shoulders. It's natural for Lord Kolfor to be stressed about it."

Lord Watherson had his mouth open, but he had to swallow his words lest he provoked Lord Rozalphor's temper. So, they had to let Lord Rozalphor speak for them.

"What do you mean? Is his majesty truly sick?" Lord Rozalphor queried.

Lord Huzein sighed. His glasses glinted in the sunlight as he lowered his head, in a small manner, he managed to convey the dilemma that clouds his mind behind a show of regal restraint.

"Let us ask the soldier himself, what say you, soldier?" Lord Huzein directed their attentions to the soldier that was standing in a parade rest not far away from them.

"My lord," he saluted, "There's nothing for me to say."

"Relay everything to us, our concerns for the king are genuine like the gold that makes the crown shimmer," Lord Huzein kindly requested.

A reluctant expression graced the soldier's features for a brief moment, but the expression melted away into standard neutrality as he recalled everything word for word.