Fredrin helped King Heralla up, even dusted his robe with his hands, despite the fact that it was still clean and there was no dirt.
"I'm good, Fredrin, thank you," the king said, a smile forming on his lips. "That was quite a welcome."
"Are you alright, my lord?" Chancellor Kline was getting up with Rodanka's aid.
King Heralla produced a deep laugh coming from his diaphragm. "Yes, yes, I'm alright. No scratches, no bruises."
"Dad." Khamene was still looking at his father.
"Son."
"What are you doing here?" Khamene asked.
King Heralla frowned. "What, a father can't visit his son in university anymore?"
"N-no. . ." Khamene looked at the two gaurds, then to his friend, then back to the king. "You're not exactly a frequent visitor."
Before King Heralla could respond, a voice boomed from behind them. Fredrin saw a man in his late thirties approach the two boys. He had thick black hair, a goatee, and high cheekbones. His lips were curled in a snarl.
"I told you two not to take him out this far!" he yelled at Khamene and his companion.
"Sorry, Professor Nem. It was my idea," the boy with the antlers said. Fredrin's eyes went to the boy's hooved feet.
"Of course it was your idea." Professor Nem walked to the side of the horse and petted its body. "I can just fail you two--" He stopped as he finally saw King Heralla. His cheeks reddened, and he bowed his head with a hand on his chest. "M-my lord. . ."
King Heralla slightly tipped his head in acknowledgement.
Professor Nem gathered himself, then stood straight. "Ron, Khamene, I'll let you off with a warning this time." He shook his head and held the horse by the rope, walking away. "I knew I shouldn't have let them play with Daisy," he muttered to himself.
Everyone watched him and the horse walk away to the side of Garneth Hall. Fredrin's forehead was turning slick with sweat, feeling as if he'd failed to protect the king. Surely this would result in a scolding, maybe even a warning.
Fredrin turned to King Heralla now, who was smiling at his son. Fredrin tried not to sneer at Khamene. That boy really did irritate him, probably from jealousy, although he wouldn't admit that to anyone and even to himself.
King Heralla patted his tunic, straightening it with his palms. "Well, I think we can go from here. Son, are you free right now?"
Khamene nodded. "I have some time."
King Heralla then looked at the older black man that he supposed was the chancellor or dean or whatever they called such officials in a university. Fredrin wouldn't know; he'd never gone to college.
"Can I come with him to his dorm room?" the king asked the other man.
"Of course, my lord!" The man sounded like such a question was very strange to even ask. Pointing a finger at Ron, he then said, "Come with me."
Ron pouted. Khamene patted his friend's shoulder before the man walked away with the half-deer in tow.
King Heralla turned to the guards. "Who's watching the carriage?"
Fredrin and Rodanka exchanged glances like they were two children guilty of breaking their mother's vase.
"Uh, we left it because we heard a disturbance here, sir, so we immediately ran to you," Rodanka said.
King Heralla's lips straightened. "Get back there now." He slipped a hand around Khamene's shoulders and they walked towards the dormitory.
When they were out of earshot, Fredrin said to Rodanka, "What does he even see in him?"
Rodanka snorted sarcastically. "He doesn't have to see anything in him. Khamene's his son."
"So? Didn't you see how irresponsible he was riding that horse and almost running the king over? Running his father over?"
Rodanka folded his arms over his chest. "That doesn't matter. King Heralla wants to keep his bloodline in power. Just face it, Fredrin. You have no chance. Now c'mon."
Rodanka turned around, and when Fredrin remained in his place, he poked Fredrin in the ribs with his elbow.
"Coming," Fredrin said with a sneer on his face, his nostrils flaring.
=====
King Heralla sat on Khamene's bed. He glanced at the second bed on the other side of the room, the pillows and comforter organized. The same could not be said for his son's bed.
The king examined the room. The walls were made of brick and painted white, the floor wooden. In the center of the room was an arch that indicated the boundaries between Khamene and his roommate.
"Why were you riding that horse?" King Heralla asked. "I was told that your horseback riding class was cancelled."
Khamene pursed his lips. "Ron wanted to practice for our practical exam next week, so he asked our professor if we could borrow a horse for an hour."
The king laughed. "You almost caused an accident."
"I'm sorry," Khamene simply said.
A momentary silence then.
"How are you, Khamene?" he asked.
"Fine." Khamene leaned back on his desk, hands in his pockets. "Not much has changed since yesterday."
"Doing well in school?"
"I'm still here, so that's a good sign." Khamene smiled. His father returned the smile. Yenchal had always found their smiles amusing. Khamene had a boxy smile; Heralla's the kind that showed all of his teeth.
"Seriously, though, how are your grades?"
"No Fs if that's what you're wondering about." Khamene pulled the chair under the desk and sat down facing his father. "I know why you're here, Dad."
King Heralla licked his lips. "I just want to make sure that everything here's in order."
Khamene's face became blank. "So you're saying you only came to check up on the school."
"And you, of course."
"You wouldn't have come here to see me had I not told you about what happened yesterday."
"Yes, I would have." King Heralla's cheeks flushed, red and warm. Even he wouldn't believe himself. Khamene had caught him red-handed.
Khamene chuckled. "You haven't visited me once since my first day two years ago, and now you show up for a surprise visit? Right after I told you that someone was attacked? How convenient."
"Son, I miss you." This was true.
Khamene exhaled loudly, as if the weight of the world had just been lifted from his shoulders. "I miss you, too. I really do, but you're so busy being the king and all that. So busy trying to be on everyone's good side so that they would choose me to be the next king."
"Is that wrong?" King Heralla leaned in.
"What if I don't want to be a king?"
"Why wouldn't you want to be a king?" King Heralla asked.
Khamene looked straight into his father's eyes. "Are you happy being the king, Dad?"
Checkmate, King Heralla thought. His kid was very clever.
"I'm happy because I get to protect you and your mother, to provide for you," King Heralla said.
"The only thing you're not providing is your presence." Khamene's shoulders dropped. "Why did you even call me last night? That surprised me, too."
"I just wanted to see how you were doing."
"All of a sudden?"
"I-I don't know. Something just told me to call you. I've been feeling strange since yesterday."
"Strange how? I've been feeling kinda strange , too." Khamene's knee began to bounce.
King Heralla looked down and shook his head. "Just unsettled, I guess, like something is wrong. Have you been feeling the same way?"
"Yeah," Khamene replied meekly.
"I can't explain it. It just started ever since--" King Heralla sat up straight. The crime in Larthas had almost come out of his mouth.
Khamene narrowed his eyes. "Ever since what?"
King Heralla waved a dismissive hand. "Never mind."
Khamene scoffed. "See, this is why we've grown apart. You're always keeping to yourself, but always smiling like everything's okay. I guess that's what all people in power do."
"But everything is okay."
"You're keeping something from me."
"Son, I assure you, everything is under control." King Heralla stood up, placed his hands on Khamene's shoulders, and kissed his forehead. "What is it you want to do if you don't want to be a king?"
"Not the right time to ask." Khamene checked his watch, then stood abruptly. "Shit, I'm going to be late for class."
King Heralla's chest and stomach dropped. "Oh."
"I gotta go."
King Heralla watched Khamene take his burlap sack by the foot of his bed and sling it over his shoulder. Walking to the door, a hand already on the doorknob, he said, "Just let yourself out. I guess I'll see you again when somebody else gets attacked."
When Khamene had left and closed the door, King Heralla sighed, rubbing his face with his hands. How had the two of them grown so distant from each other?"
Neither of them knew at that point that they would not be seeing each other for a very long time, not until Khamene had slayed the demon that lived under the dirt.