That night, there was another, much smaller banquet in a smaller hall. Snow sat in his father's seat with Ali and his stepmother on either side, watching the masses entertain themselves. No one seemed to truly know what the intention of this gathering was, anymore. Half were in a state of mourning. Others took any excuse to drink. Many looked ready to leave. Their eyes burned with annoyance and disappointment. Snow wore his newly granted kinghood with the weight of the world crushing his spirit. To some, the evening might appear more like a failing carnival act. Confusion wafted throughout the room. Loneliness gripped the hearts of many longing to hear Arthur's thunderous voice as he tossed back drinks with everyone present.
Ophelia leaned slightly in Snow's direction. "Wake up," she spoke softly. "Try to straighten yourself. Shoulders back, now. It'll make you appear more authoritative."
He did so without question. "Thank you," he whispered, casting a tired glance towards her.
She nodded. "We have to be stronger than ever, right now."
Ali squeezed Snow's hand in his own under the table. They had hardly spoken to each other that evening, yet Ali would always give a calm, serene smile to Snow and nod his head every so often if only to silently say, "I know. You're hurting." It was a silent act that eased Snow's heavy conscience a little. He could relax just a bit whenever he felt the heat of Ali's hand encase himself, and the other prince's thumb rub softly along the back of his palm.
Still, he was at a loss for what to even say or do, for that matter. Around this time of the evening, his father would interrupt everyone to give a sporadic speech that would entice all their guests and send the evening into a passionate frenzy fueled with positive energy. Yet Snow could barely find the strength to lift his fork for the smallest morsel of food. Instead, he picked at his plate, letting his train of thought derail to a point where he didn't even notice that he was letting grapes roll onto his lap.
Ophelia covered her eyes and shook her head when she saw. Again, she leaned close to him. "Try to hold yourself together, at least until the evening is over. Look around you," she pointed with her eyes to the audience. "I know this is a difficult time for you, but it is for all of us." A sea of faces washed over the court, mingling with each other. The sight was overwhelming to Snow, making his gut twist into knots. "There's not a single person here who is not mourning Arthur's passing. You're not alone in this."
He was hesitant to respond. "I understand. Still, what am I supposed to do in this situation? All these men were my father's allies, not my own. I hardly know anyone here, save their name and what business they had with him."
"That's part of the job. You'll have to rebuild their alliances, discuss partnerships, and gain their trust as Arthur did. Knowing how to act and remain grounded in these kinds of situations can be the defining moment of anyone's opinion of you." Ophelia's eyes scanned out the room, smiling and waving at whoever she made eye contact with. This earned her similar gestures in return. "You see, Snow? Tis' a bit of an art form, an act, if you will. To gain trust, you must know who to rightfully pay mind to. Go on, try a simple gesture towards anyone here, even if it is only a greeting or a dance."
Snow gulped but knew there was truth to what his stepmother was saying. He couldn't hide behind a banquet table in his father's chair the entire night. "Alright, but first…" he reached over and took a swing back from his chalice. The bitter, dry substance burned his throat as he swallowed and held back with all his might to not double over in a spasm of coughs. Then, he stood, letting go of Ali's hand.
"I'll come with you!" His partner stood with him and saw Snow's face soften.
"I'm afraid I must advise against that, Your Highness." Jafar stepped in, seeming to have appeared out of nowhere.
"I- I beg your pardon? Why shouldn't I? I'm his fiance. We're to rule together, are we not?" Ali pinched his brows together, turning his stare at his father's vizier.
"I mean no disrespect, but do forgive me. You see, in this situation, it might be best for Snow to gain the respect of his father's court on his own. You both will have your duties to face and must learn to be able to handle yourselves just as King Arthur and Sultan Huran did. Wouldn't you agree?" His last question was directed at both Huran and Ophelia.
Paribanu shifted her gaze, staring daggers at Jafar. Her fingers curled into a fist, clutching the fabric of her dress.
Huran, who had spent the whole day verbally assaulted, had an immediate answer. "Yes. You've taken the throne. Now show the people that you deserve it. Show your father's court you're worthy of the crown, and show my court that you're still worth forging alliances with."
His words stabbed into Snow's conscience, stinging like a viper bite. He felt his heart race. In that moment, he briefly felt like he was watching the alliance, and in turn, his romance with Ali disintegrated.
"I couldn't agree more." Ophelia's eyes looked past Snow and Ali towards Huran. "If Stone Roll and Nayzaria are to still ally with each other, then it must be approved by the current ruling heads." She locked eyes with Huran, and her lips twisted into a slight smile before looking back at Snow. "Prove yourself."
Snow held his hand up, palm facing Ali, commanding him to stop. "I'll be alright," he assured him. "A king must learn to do things themselves, shouldn't he?" Snow gave Ali an awkward, less-than-confident smile as he straightened his clothes.
Ali blinked and swallowed. "If you say so." The frustration could be heard clearly in his voice. "Just wink at me, and I'll come to pull you back to safety. Fair?"
"Fair!"
Watching Snow head into the crowd felt like he was watching a bird fly from its nest and into a raging storm.
He was off. Snow stepped around from the table into the crowds and immediately felt lost. There was no plan and little objective. Hardly anyone here held him in high regard. Walking up to just about anyone and striking up a conversation seemed pointless and intimidating. Yet, here he was, mingling as best he could with anyone who seemed friendly enough. Snow spied a face he was certain of, only to address them with the entirely wrong name. He asked another guest about the incorrect business they were associated with. It was a disjointed effort, begging for his leave. Snow sighed deeply, pinching his brow.
"Perhaps now would be a good time to pull him away," Ali whispered over to his father and sister, sitting beside him. He bit his lip as he spoke.
"Absolutely not," Huran demanded, keeping his eyes on Snow from afar. "He must learn to handle himself in these situations, just as you did."
"He cannot rely on others for diplomacy his entire life," Jafar commented.
Paribanu's eyes flashed at her father, then Jafar, and then at her brother. The two siblings shared a look, and in just a few short blinks, they were in sync with each other. She nodded, as did he. "Really, you two? Throwing a rabbit into a den of lions without even a weapon to defend itself?" she huffed. "Everyone must learn to stand on their own, but...a bit of help is never something to be ashamed of."
Ophelia's eyes flickered in their direction, and she smiled. "And what is it that you mean to do?"
Paribanu smiled back and bowed her head. "Nothing that would interfere with this educational trial you've put up to him." She stood, as did Ali.
"One more attempt," Snow muttered to himself under his breath. "I won't retreat until I've done at least one thing right!" Once collected, he looked up and saw a small gathering of folk at a nearby table. His ear twitched upon hearing half of their conversation. A calm grin appeared on his face as he approached them.
"I can't recall, actually. When was the year the outer walls were torn down? Thirteen? Fifteen years ago?"
"Certainly not! I'd swear it was much longer than that! Twenty-five."
"No, no. That can't be correct. I distinctly remember it happening after the prince's birth. It couldn't have been that long ago."
"Pardon me," Snow interrupted, keeping one hand behind his back as he approached their circle. "You are correct in that it happened after I was born, but only by a few years. I was three years old, putting the date around twenty-one years ago."
"Ah, yes! That was it! Thank you, Your Highness," one of them said with a slight raise of their glass. "We were just reminiscing about the reign and achievements of King Arthur's time. Such a good man your father was. Please, accept my humblest condolences for your loss." His voice was solemn as he shook his head.
"Tell us, Your Highness, we had only known him as our ruler. T'was a joy to be within his court. Still, is there a way only you can truly remember him?"
Snow was caught a little off-guard by the sudden question. He felt his head spin for a moment as years of memories of a father hurricaned through him. The only matter was choosing a suitable one to share. "Far too many," he exclaimed. "I can recall the many nights he mourned those who died during the annual crimson plague. Or how he'd wake every morning and thank the divine for the warmth of the morning sun. He could be more religious than he let the public know. What's more, I knew him not just as a righteous king or a leader but also as a father. He'd never let the week go out without making time for either of his wives nor allow a hunting trip go by without myself or other apprentice hunters recounting something new we'd learned."
"I'm sorry, did you say he...wept for the annual crimson plague victims?"
"Impossible! Never could anyone imagine such a thing: King Arthur in such an emotional state."
"This is true, I tell you. Father, strong as he was, wept at any tragedy that befell the kingdom that was beyond his control. Mother's passing ruined him so much that he created a memorial of all crimson plague victims every year after. It was the reason he started the Red Relief, to help the widowed support themselves in the absence of those who died."
"Ah, yes, I remember that," one plump woman in purple silks commented. "My first husband died of crimson plague, I think, two years before the memorial plaques began. Hmph. I always found it a bit selfish for him not to understand until it finally happened to him."
Snow was a bit taken aback but quickly cleared his throat. "Forgive him. I can see why it might seem that way, but my father was a man of compassion and concern for all his subjects. On the surface, he always remained solution-focused so much that sometimes, yes, he lost sight of moral support. His concern was to end sickness for good."
"No one can deny that," said a tall man with a mustache. Snow recognized him to be one of the more relaxed people in his court and a fine wine craftsman. "I can't recall the exact year, but I remember there were a few years he managed to establish a temporary alliance with the eastern continent, trading lumber from the western mountains in exchange for spices and herbs. Isn't that how he met that huntsman of yours? You know who he is."
"Do you mean Fowler?"
"That's the one! Bit of an odd and scary fellow. I admit, many of us were surprised when Arthur offered him a permanent position in his court."
"He didn't. As you may know, Father almost executed him until I asked him to be spared."
"What? Impossible!"
"What do you mean? I've never heard of this. Tell us more, Your Highness."
Snow blinked, a bit surprised. Had his father hidden the truth about Fowler from everyone? "Well… When a supply load arrived, Fowler had stowed away from the eastern continent. When he was discovered by the guards, he couldn't even speak our language. My father wanted to execute him, quickly and quietly, afraid he was a threat. Yet, when I saw him, I thought there was something more to him…"
"What do you mean? Surely there must have been some reason for it," exclaimed the wine craftsman.
"There was. Truth be told, he was possibly the scariest-looking person I had ever seen. Yet he looked at me, and in his eyes, I saw a certain look." Snow raised a hand and cupped his chin as he tried to recall, searching for the right words. "There was a twinkle in his eyes, something like a desperate plea as if to say he still had something left in the world to fulfill. He spoke to me, and I didn't understand a word he was saying, but I felt it."
A few of the nobles listening raised a brow at Snow as this.
"I stopped the execution and instead forced him to duel the executioner right there on the spot. I'll never forget it. Fowler used a sword style we'd never seen before. He disarmed and defeated the executioner within seconds, and that's when I knew what we should do with him."
"So you made Fowler your retainer out of intuition? That's the idea of a madman."
"If none of our knights could defeat a weakened, starving man with his head on the chopping block, then why would they be more qualified?" Snow said proudly. "Fowler has been loyal to our kingdom ever since, and I'm proud to have him."
The circle of nobles were stunned silent for a moment.
"Well, I suppose you have a point there," one said in a rough voice. "Have to say, I've grown fond of green tea because of him."
"Of course! It's hard to imagine our lives before it!"
"And Fowler isn't such a bad guy. He just looks scary."
"One might say it was Fowler's influence that sparked father's quest to seek help from all corners of the world, no matter how far." Snow cut in, speaking softly.
"Several years of outside influence will do that to anyone. But, I admit at this point Stone Roll wouldn't be the same without him around. He may not be a doctor, but his staying here has improved our small military, and as you said, Snow, it was his nation's resources that helped fend off lesser illness."
"And that's why Father wanted to ally with Nayzaria. They've never suffered from crimson plague, but their medicine is more advanced than any other nation. If anyone can craft a cure, it's them. He tore down the outermost walls as a sign of good faith and welcome to all coming from the southern border."
A court member chuckled. "Yes, well, it's hard to feel welcomed when passing through the remains of the wall, especially when you see the memorial site for those who died in the deconstruction."
"Well, it wasn't exactly King Arthur's fault? Who could have predicted an earthquake would occur that morning?"
Snow's eyes kept darting back and forth between their comments until he found the prime moment to speak up again. "It's true, he couldn't have expected that, but that's why he felt the accident was so tragic, despite the low number of casualties. My father mourned their loss and paid tribute to each of their surviving families in person."
"Yes, I recall that, myself!"
"I hadn't known at all."
"This was before you had entered Arthur's court, I believe. It was said that he saw that each of the victims' families received double the promised payment for the wall's deconstruction and a private memorial service. Truly a fantastic man."
"Indeed, my father was," Snow gave a weak but assuring nod to his guests.
"Why were only the walls surrounding the nation's border torn down, but none surrounding the town or the castle?" Another guest spoke up.
"King Arthur was ambitious but not stupid," one person laughed. "He still cared about the safety of others and wanted to assure the security of his people in the event of invaders.
"AH! That makes sense."
"Yes, I suppose it does."
"Tell us, Your Highness, after all, concerns are settled and your erh- wedding is over with, what will be your first decree as King? Do you know?"
"Not yet, I'm sorry to say. There is still much that must be discussed between myself and Sultan Huran. There are also concerns with my stepmother. However, my father always said that a wise man shouldn't act until the moment is right. Never strike just because the opportunity is present."
"That's just what I'd expect from his son." The company nodded confidently to Snow. "Perhaps Arthur was right, placing his faith in you. If you can rule with every bit of wisdom and loyalty to your subjects as he did, then we just might be able to set everything on the right course forward."
"I have every intention of such, so long as I rule." Snow's eyes glittered with satisfaction for himself. "Father wanted to transform Stone Roll from a stone prison into a centerpiece of an open world where everyone could prosper and find the opportunity they need for the life they want. I have every plan to continue his vision. It is just a matter of how to go about it."
"Come, let us raise our glasses in a small toast. To the late King Arthur and his son, King Snow!" It was a sorrowful, somewhat depressing gulp they each took from their glass, but Snow felt a little content with it all. At least one conversation had proven to go well. Maybe he was cut out for this after all; it just took a little time to get used to everything.
"Now, Your Highness, regarding his death, some of us have our concerns." The man's tone of voice shifted as he glanced around and lowered his voice.
"What would that be?" Snow sensed the change in atmosphere, noting the court members sharing glances.
"Well, we all heard about the circumstances of his death and who last saw him alive."
Immediately, Snow understood what they were getting at. His shoulders tensed, but he kept his stance firm, refusing to back away from this.
"Yes. We currently have Doctor Allwissend examining him for all evidence. So far, nothing has been conclusive."
Some of the court members shared another look of concern and displeasure. "Well, many of us have been talking, and what we'd like to know is if you still intend to allow them to remain?"
"And just who would you be referring to by "them"?"
"Your Majesty, please. It's very concerning being in wrong company. I must insist, on behalf of all of us you consider—"
The music changed. A melancholic melody disintegrated and was quickly washed over by a powerful tide of drum beats, filled with energy and a delightful swiftness. In the center of the court, Paribanu could be seen dancing alongside Ali. Her voice rang out with bombastic passion, singing in her native language. It was a song not known to the common folk of Stone Roll but well known to King Arthur's court, having shared celebration customs with Nayzaria for several years now. As Paribanu sang, she attracted the attention of the room.
Ali was light on his feet, spitting flames and sparks into the air, quick to twirl his hand, and with a wave, his fire took shape. He flashed a smile in Snow's direction, putting on as flamboyant a show as possible. Fire depicted hoards of birds circling above. Pixies fluttered and danced about, hopping atop heads and hats in the crowds. Dragonflies buzzed and perched on goblets across the tables. Flowers bloomed and exploded in a sea of color. The two siblings knew just how to lighten the grim atmosphere and entertain all who watched.
"Ah...it would seem the scum has taken over."
Snow's attention was snatched by the sudden comment. He looked back at the court members. "They are not scum. They are our future. Now, if you'll excuse me..."
The atmosphere was lit ablaze when Snow stepped into the center of the dance floor. He placed his hands proudly around Ali. A tango ensued, and their dance intertwined with the fire flying through the air, raising spirits as Paribanu continued singing. Nobility joined with each other and hands crossed over with other guests, people exchanging partners across the floor. For a shining moment, it felt as though anyone's sadness had vanished, everyone surrendering to enjoyment as they danced. When all ceased, there were thunderous cheers and laughter from the court.
"I thought you weren't supposed to save me?" Snow whispered in Ali's ear.
"We didn't. We just thought we'd make it a little easier for you," he murmured back, smiling as he did so.
"It's difficult to gain political favor when the mood is so grim, don't you think?" Paribanu chimed in with a playfully scheming smirk on her face.
Snow shook his head at them both, rubbing his forehead. "I couldn't ask for a better team than you both." They shared a laugh as they all made their way back to their table.
The doors to the ballroom swung open. The joyous moment was interrupted by the royal guard entering alongside a tall, thin man in a black cloak, dark gloves, a wide-brimmed hat, and round spectacles. Around his waist hung a leather-bound book with a quill and a small container of ink. Glass vials of all kinds strung around his belt. A poorly folded piece of parchment was in hand. The man's face was red, breathing sporadically, and hoarse. He coughed into a handkerchief until he could regain himself, having arrived in a hurry. It was the royal chemist.
"Erh- Good evening, Doctor Allwissend." Snow quickly rushed to him, hands held up as though he were about to catch him from falling over. "Are you alright? You look like Death. What happened?" Snow's eyes scanned his accompanied guard, far more than necessary for a simple entrance. He gulped, feeling a slight shiver run over him. He didn't like this but knew he had to remain vigilant instead of jumping to any conclusion.
"Your Highness," Allwissend said as he removed his hat. "Nobility," he said as he quickly turned to the guests. "And your Majesty," he addressed Ophelia. "Please, pardon me, but I fear there is urgent news to be delivered!"
Ophelia rose. "Then pray, good doctor, tell us swiftly."
Snow's eyes glanced in his stepmother's direction and then back to Allwissend. He nodded.
Allwissend, though having made such a burst entering, now hesitated as his eyes looked about. His hand hovered in front of his face with his handkerchief until finally, he begrudgingly clenched it in his fist and tucked it away. He held the other up for everyone to see the parchment. "Behold. Here are the results of the late King Arthur's autopsy. We've been able to break down the compounds of his blood and skin samples and have discovered the true cause of his demise!"
There was a collection of gasps and murmurs from the nobility as he unfolded the parchment.
Snow didn't say anything at first. He stood there, motionless, staring at Allwissend. It felt as though a stone had lodged itself in his throat. "Tell us," he croaked. "What was discovered?"
"There is no doubt that given the signs of struggle and evidence that another person was present at the time of his death, the late King Arthur's death was a homicide! Yet that is not the only conclusion reached!"
Allwissend adjusted his glasses slightly, looking over the paper. "We dissected and examined the samples extracted from the late King Arthur's ear as it was the only site of any wound inflicted upon him. Traces of scorched skin and inflamed tissues were also present. Upon deeper inspection, the contents of his blood contained another substance- a deadly poison!"
There was a pause as the audience gasped.
"And what else did you find?" Huran thundered, standing.
Allwissend stared at him with a profound, confused look about him and then snorted at the Sultan. "As if you hadn't known? After further examination, the active toxin in the poison was none other than a suspicious venom which we identified to belong to none other than the dagger-tooth serpent!"
Huran and the entirety of Nayzaria froze. Snow's gaze immediately shot directly at them. There was no rage, but instead, his eyes showed desperation and fear. Confusion washed over him. He felt light-headed, sickly even. It couldn't be true, could it? "Ali…?" he murmured.
Ophelia rose, glaring daggers at the Sultan. "Is that so?" she spat. The looks being shot across the room between the two nations held a thick tension. Knights had their fingers toying around the handles of their blades and spears.
"The what?!"
"I've never heard of such a creature," some called out.
"Listen, then!" Allwissend raised his voice. "The dagger-tooth serpent is a particularly rare breed of snake found only on the southern continent."
Blades were drawn.
Within seconds, the entire hall's celebration had shifted, ready to turn into a slaughterhouse. Royal guards held their spears and halberds at the ready, pointed at those from the sands as they surrounded Doctor Allwissend. Curved swords and Nayzarian chants were being muttered under each other's breath, readying themselves.
"THEY KILLED HIM! THEY KILLED OUR KING!"
"What other proof do you have?"
"Don't try to talk your way out of this! The devil's in the details! We all heard Doctor Allwissend! Your kingdom poisoned King Arthur!"
"Who's to say you didn't murder your own?! Anyone can get their hands on venom if they know who to ask!"
"That's rich, coming from you filthy desert dwellers! You heard the doctor himself! The snake is only from your nation!"
A divide split across the hall. Soldiers pushed aside tables and leaped back as a wall fire suddenly erupted, separating them, roaring, and conjured from thin air. It hadn't fuel of any kind, yet it grew hotter, louder, and brighter as Jafar stepped forward from around the royal's table. "We have much less conspicuous ways to assassination. Do you think we'd be that stupid to use the venom of a snake so rare?" he spat at Stone Roll's nobility. He raised his hand and curled his fingers into a fist.
The others watched in horror as the fire engulfed the stone floor, threatening to devour anyone too close, yet ever lingering at the edge of the crowds.
Snow looked towards Jafar from where he stood with Allwissend and several of the guards, shocked by his brash, adamant defense.
"That. Is. Enough!" Ophelia's voice pierced through the noise of the hall when she stood. She clutched the edge of her cape tightly as she leered over the crowds. No one was spared from her threatening gaze, not even her own people.
"Huran! Call off your dog this instant!"
Jafar sneered at her, eyes ablaze with disgust. The wall of fire hissed, burning hotter in his rage.
"Your Majesty!" Paribanu stood in protest, stuttering in her fit of anger to the point where she slipped into her nation's native tongue. "H-how DARE YOU call him such a thing!"
"Do it, now!" she commanded once again.
Huran, although furious, turned his attention to Jafar and nodded his head at him. "Cease this, Jafar," he grunted bitterly.
He leered at the sultan and gritted his teeth. It was with great agony that he looked back to his divide, curled his hand into a fist, and pulled it back to tuck into the folds of his robes. The flames dispersed, leaving the hall in a moment of awe and silence.
Just like that, the tension in the room was held together by a single woman's will. When she spoke again, her authoritative tone commanded all attention. "Has Stone Roll not always been a nation of grace and diplomacy? Let us not forget what brought us here tonight. We came to mourn the departed, my beloved husband; not to shed further blood. Is this how we wish to end this evening?"
"T'was they who brought this evening upon us!" a nobleman yelled from the crowds.
"We demand justice! No mercy!"
For a single moment, Ophelia exhaled and turned her gaze down. She paused, trying to keep herself composed. "True as it seems, Arthur was one who never jumped to conclusions and slaughtered innocents over a single bad apple."
"And I suppose you want us to wait patiently for the next nobleman to be killed?"
"No!" Ophelia turned her gaze slowly and pursed her lips. "I want...the new king to decide the best course of action." She was staring at Snow.
"What?!" He was caught off guard. Looking around, he saw everyone's eyes on him.
"We are celebrating your ascension as well, are we not? Let this be your first decree, why don't you?"
He gulped. In not even a moment, he had to assess the situation, weigh the pros and cons, and make a choice that would lead to the most satisfying conclusion...but for who? Was he supposed to think about himself? His stepmother? The nobles? His citizens? His lover? Their guests? He couldn't order executions, nor could let anyone go unpunished. Snow was sweating. He needed to stall for time.
He looked at Ali halfway across the hall, then back to the masses, and in a huff, he gave the order. "Close the castle gates. No one is allowed in or out!"
"What?!"
"Snow!"
"Your Highness! You can't be serious, can you?"
Snow turned back to Doctor Allwissend. "Can we say with certainty that whoever poisoned father is here?"
"Well...no, but we do know that everyone who was there that evening is here now."
"Then do as I say. Close the castle gates. Have the guards search everyone's room no matter who they are. Let no stone go unturned! Those who have nothing to hide need not worry!"
"This is preposterous! You heard Doctor Allwissend, yourself! There's no way anyone from your father's court could have killed him."
Frustrated, Snow's voice erupted in a fit of childish rage. "Father is gone! I will not let his death be overlooked. I will not let any chances be missed. A criminal may be among us, or they may not, but I will do what I think is right. We've got to do this swiftly and without granting special treatment to anyone. A guard will be posted at everyone's door this evening, and will they patrol the city and villages until we find any leads as to who is responsible!"
He paused to glance at Ophelia and then nodded at her. She returned the gesture.
"It is as my stepmother said. Father never slaughtered the innocent over a single bad apple or threw blind punches until he knew his target's weaknesses. If that means we have to perform a witch hunt then so be it."
The entire hall was flung in chaos. The banquet was over- guests being escorted back to their rooms. Not a soul was being left unsupervised whether be servant or nobleman alike from either nation. Snow watched from his throne at the head of the court, drumming his fingers on the armrest and biting his lip. "Have I done the right thing?" he asked himself under his breath. There was no time to second guess himself. With another moment he shook off his hesitation and nodded.
"Snow!" A voice thundered. It was Ali's. "Do you have any idea what you're doing?!"
He blinked, his face softening as he stood to face Ali. There was confusion, even hurt in his lover's eyes. "I'm doing what's necessary to keep everyone safe, and that includes you and your family!"
"Snow…"
"Your Majesty." A guard approached, stepping between them. It was the same guard as the previous night who had stopped them on the stairwell. "The guests are being escorted as you ordered. Shall I see Prince Ali in his room as well?"
There was a moment where the two's eyes met. Ali reached past the knight to take hold of the newly appointed king's hand. "Snow! You have to believe me! I assure you that nobody from our kingdom would have done this! Please, Snow! I'm so sorry."
Near the entrance, Paribanu argued against one of the knights, ordering they unhand her and her father.
Another moment passed in slow motion as Snow held gently around Ali's hand and rubbed his thumb over his knuckles. He nodded. "Ali… I believe you, but now things are different. I have appearances to keep up, a court to satisfy, and there is a murderer afoot. People must be protected." Snow looked towards the guard. "You may escort us both back to our separate chambers this evening. Make sure that no one is harmed, but also that no one's room is left unchecked."