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The soles of many feet made their sounds on the elaborate mosaic floors of the royal palace at Kantul. Silk rustled, suede whispered, hard heels clicked and kid leather quietly clapped. Once upon a time even bare feet pattered across it, years ago, when the princes were young. The heavy thumps of leather-soled boots usually signified a guard rotation.
The peal of thunder that rumbled down the main corridor that day was none of those things.
A door slammed open, much to the alarm of four out of five of the occupants of the room to which it led.
"Do you know what he did?" came the roar, like a squall blasting down a battened hatch.
Consort Harim looked up coolly and tilted their head to one side.
They turned to the woman seated next to them and said, "We'll resume this conversation at this same hour, tomorrow."
The woman nodded and fled, skirts in hand. The other three followed close on her heels.
Fortunately, the door to the receiving room was wide enough to admit them past the towering figure of the King, who would not budge from the spot where he was standing, his palm still planted flat over the door he had just slammed open.
"Shut the door behind you," said his spouse mildly.
"Do you know what our son did?" asked Orust, once the door was shut, his arms crossed over his broad chest. "How can you be so calm?"
"He's twenty one years old, Ore," said Harim. "He's a man, now. Short of treason, he can do what he pleases."
"And it pleases him to displease me," said the King.
Harim smiled. "I'm certain that's only one small component of his decision-making process."
Orust threw himself bodily into one of the vacated chairs, stretching out his legs before him. "Seriously, though," he said again. "Do you know what he's gone and done?"
"He's ridden uphill to Jandiah, over the falls," said Harim. "He means to take a river-boat to Arness in the morning."
"Across the border," said Orust pointedly.
"Yes," replied his spouse, "that's where Arness is."
Orust sighed deeply. "Did he tell you why he's leaving Koth?"
"A temporary sojourn, he assured me," said Harim. "He said he means to attend the university, there."
"We have a university here in Kantul that's every bit as good," said Orust.
"That's a lie and you know it," retorted Harim, but they were smiling.
He sighed again. "I might have known he would confide in you and not in me. My own son! My firstborn, my heir. I could have given him valuable advice."
"He knew you would react like this," said Harim, "I imagine. The only advice you truly would have given him is, 'stay put and do as I tell you'."
"It's good advice!" complained Orust. "And I am not only his father but his King. Those are two excellent reasons for him to obey me."
"Yes, yes," said Harim soothingly. "He's your son and heir, and you're his King. That means he's also going to be King, one day. Did you forget about that part? Or did you mean to teach him that a future king's role is to listen and obey, only?"
After a short silence, the King said, "It's infuriating when you are right."
"But it's why you love me," said his spouse with a smile.
Orust's brows snapped together and he waved a finger at them. "I married you for your looks, I'll have you know."
"That's my line," said Harim. "Stick to the script, please."
He laughed.
"Do you feel better?" asked the Consort.
"I'm still angry with him," said Orust.
"I know you are, my heart," replied his spouse. "I wanted him to remain a boy a little longer, too, but time marches ever forward, and he's a man, now."
"So you said before," said Orust with a frown. "He's twenty one. That seems very young to be a man, to me."
"You were twenty one when I met you," Harim pointed out.
Orust frowned again. "I thought I was the one who met you."
They smiled. "Of course you did."