The carriage ride northbound had been a slow and painful process. The roads - if they could even be called that, at certain times - were in awful shape. Outside of the imperial Herzland, or heartlands, the only provinces with a proper and functioning road network seemed to be Wingbardy itself and Griffonstone. Everywhere else, the roads were in a severe state of disrepair and neglect. Fitting, in a way, for an empire that was itself in stark disrepair, and crumbling at all ends.
Griffenheim, at least, had been a relief on the final stretch of their journey. Proper, paved roads and lit streets to light the way even now, in the dark of night.
"Make sure to stick close to me, son."
Garibald looked to his father opposite of him. He wore his royal, military dress uniform for the occasion, though his age made him look a little like a long-retired general of sorts. He himself wore a regal, expensive suit for the occasion.
"The imperials are a scheming bunch. They have eyes and ears all around."
Gumberto leaned forward and shut the curtains covering the windows of their carriage as it passed through the mostly empty streets of the imperial capital. He sat back again, but raises a claw as he spoke once more.
"Always be on your guard, my son. A good king knows to trust his subjects, but remains observant and smart all the same."
Garibald nodded, much to his father's satisfaction.
"Gahh, I wish that brat chick of an emperor was bedridden so that this awful party would have been cancelled..."
"And... ah yes! His majesty, King Gumberto!"
The two royals stepped out of their carriage as it was parked in a wide, paved drive-way in front of the Imperial Palace. Gumberto perked up as the voice announced his presence, lending a claw to his son as he jumped out, also.
"A pleasure." Gumberto's voice was neutral and trained, his face not betraying any real emotion as he turned to face the speaker from before. "You have met my son?"
Garibald remained steady, though he was clearly a little nervous as his father gestured and looked at him, as did the noble he was speaking to.
"Ah, the prince. We have heard a great deal of your excellence in private studies."
"This is Rector Albinus Lucius of the Yale universities, Garibald," his father explained calmly. The famed professor appeared to take pride, adjusting the white bowtie he was wearing, before extending a claw towards the comparatively young griffon, even if the prince was in his 30s now.
"A great pleasure it is indeed, Prince Garibald."
The griffon hesitated, but his father nodded and urged him forward. This, too, was a lesson for the heir to the kingdom. Social events and etiquette befit for royalty.
"Nice to meet you, as well," Garibald said as he shook the griffon's claw, doing his best to imitate his father's tone of voice.
"Is the emperor here?" Gumberto asked the griff quickly, perhaps trying to distract him from his son.
"Certainly he is." Garibald stepped back and a little closer to his father's side as his claw was let go of. "He should be in the throne room, as usual."
"Surrounded by the regents, I imagine."
"You read my mind effortlessly, old friend." The scientist chuckled before turning about. "Let's not dally around for too much longer, shall we?"
Garibald swore he heard a suppressed sigh from his father at that notion. "We'll be with you in a moment. Go ahead without us."
The Yalish griffon nodded and proceeded towards the brightly lit halls of the palace, the entrance of which appeared to be guarded by a duo of imperial guardgriffs, each of them resting on a sabre.
"Sorry about that, son." The two wingbardians turned to face one another. "For some reason I didn't expect to see my old... friend here." A sigh came from the king. "For now, follow my lead, and remember all I have taught you."
"Calm, proud and thoughtful?" Garibald returned.
"That's it," came the smiling response. "A lot of these griffons can be... troublesome, if not outright annoying. Try to learn to deal with them. You will have to, in due time, as part of your responsibilites. Not everygriff is nice and comfortable to be around. Certainly not most imperial nobility."
"I'll do my best, papa."
Gumberto smirked and tucked at the cheek of his son playfully. "I know you will, my son. Now, let's get moving."
Garibald raised a claw just above his eyes. It was dark outside in the night, but the interior was so brightly lit that he was blinded for a moment. When he came to look again, he was facing his father. The many military awards and medals dangled proudly from his chest as he moved forward towards a trio of griffons. He made sure to follow along.
"Ah, your majesty," all three of them said in unison, more or less at the same time as his father walked up to their little group. Two of them were holding glasses of wine. "We were almost afraid you wouldn't show!"
"Karthin is such a long ways away, don't you think?" another griffon muttered, this particular one standing out as he wore a military uniform befitting for a high-ranking officer. It, too, carried medals on it. Far fewer than those displayed on his father's chest. A small consolation.
"Such an effort to get here. Truly, you demonstrate a great deal of loyalty to the emperor and empire just by appearing for his summon," the third commented.
Garibald noticed his father's faked, confident smile break for but a split second. The smiles and compliments from these three nobles were obviously just as fake. He himself frowned, causing his father to give him a light jab at which point he put on a smile also. There was something in the air. The nobles in front of them, but also all around them. He felt watched, and like there was some sort of underlying tension looming all over them. Surely his father could feel it, too?
"Yes, thank you, Duke Eagleclaw. However my interests are my own and if I arrive to a summon such as this then I assure you it is because I truly do wish to attend, not because of some feigned loyalty."
"Of course, of course!" the duke, a black-feathered griffon looking to be at a somewhat advanced age, replied. "Our southern friends are always welcome here! You should come by and visit the Duchy tomorrow before heading back, you know?"
Gumberto held up a claw, talons stretched out.
"No thank you. I have heard only good of the wine Strawberry produces, but I haven't made the roadtrip to go shopping for liquor."
"What's the matter, majesty? Don't you care for a taste?"
The king looked to one of the other griffons, who wore a rather foolish, large hat. Truth be told, Garibald could have sworn he was already swaying back and forth slightly as he held out his glass of wine for his father to drink from.
"No. Thank you." Gumberto gently pushed the glass and arm of the griffon back to where they were before. "I prefer to stay sober at gatherings."
"Why, I think you-"
"Pardon me and my son, but I do believe we have yet to greet and congratulate the emperor in kind, yet," Gumberto quickly interrupted, a smile on his face as he bowed his head before the three. "You will have to excuse us."
Garibald felt a claw from his father slap him gently the other way, and so he began to walk. His father was soon right beside him once more, and they approached a large, regal-looking flight of stairs.
"Herzlanders are the scum of the earth, Garibald. Bunch of degenerate, hedonistic, scheming buffoons."
The prince followed along as they climbed the stairs.
A set of large, fancily and regally ornated wooden doors were already wide open for the duo to enter through. Guards were present throughout the lengthy room, as were several griffons at the end of the same, seeming to be whispering to a young chick of a griffon who sat upon a gilded, golden throne which was far too wide and tall for his current proportions.
"Ahem," one of the 'advisors' gave out to silence the room for good. "Bow before the Emperor of Griffonkind, chosen by Boreas, Emperor Grover, fifth of his name."
For once, Garibald did not need instructions from his father as both of them dropped down to show fealty to the young griffon who was almost exactly 20 years younger than Garibald, sitting upon the throne that oversaw an empire spanning the continent... as a 12-year old chick.
"Rise."
The two royals rose back onto their feet and saw another 'advisor' whisper into the ear of the emperor. Both Gumberto and Garibald exchanged curious looks before looking to the front again. It was probable the emperor didn't even know what was going on.
"Your imperial majesty, may I present," the same voice from before boasted. The emperor looked to the front, at the two avians gathered in the room just for him. "His majesty King Gumberto di Almieri, first of his name, sovereign of the crown of Wingbardy, and his son and heir to the throne, Crown Prince Garibald Talonuel di Almieri!"
There was an awkward silence taking hold as both the regency council skulking around the young chick, as well as the two guests, waited for... anything, really, to come from the emperor.
Yaaaawn....
Gumberto sighed and grumbled audibly, while two members of the regency council immediately moved forward to conceal the emperor from their view. The child had fallen asleep all of a sudden, and even then his snoring was audible.
"Please forward our best wishes to his imperial majesty when they..." Gumberto paused, "...when they wake up, please."
He turned around, unsure if he was even heard by anygriff as all of them rallied around the emperor. Garibald stayed a moment longer to look at them before following his father. He could have sworn a few dozen of the regents had given the two of them a dreadful stare then. He shuddered on his way out, feeling that tension return. Just what was up with all these folks?
"Son." Garibald was stopped by the authortative claw of his father pressing down on his back just as they left the throne room. He spoke quietly, and leaned in towards him. "I don't think we're very welcome or needed here any longer. If even the emperor falls asleep on us, I say we depart posthaste."
Gumberto looked around, as if to check for any evesdroppers.
"Meet me outside in 15 minutes."
"15 minutes? What are you-"
"I still have something to discuss with somegriff. Don't worry about me. We will meet up at the carriage in a quarter of an hour, that's as long as my appointment should take."
"I can't come with you?"
"Afraid not. He doesn't want anyone else listening in. Sorry, Garibald."
The heavy claw on Garibald's back turned into a gentle duo of pats before it was removed entirely.
"I know my way around. Don't worry."
"I'll be waiting, papa."
Gumberto smiled as he turned away and marched down the hallway they had originally come from. Soon he was out of sight for Garibald, who remained in place outside the throne room for a little bit longer. Something was really unnerving about this place... and the griffons that occupied it.
Garibald fumbled with his talons as he leaned against a wall in the ballroom. It was close enough to the entrance, where their carriage would be waiting, and so he was gonna spend the next few minutes there to not be pacing all alone on the outside, in the dark. That would have made him look lonely at best, and suspicious or vulnerable at worst. He knew to look the part as a future king, and so he at least pretended to be attending the celebrations and dancing.
"Good evening, your highness."
The smartly-dressed Prince looked to his right as a woman approached him. She wore a stupidly pompous, green ball gown, the ends of which were trailing on the ground behind her. The amount of cosmetics that were on her face and in her hair was too numerous for Garibald to count.
"Good evening, ma'am," he replied simply, trying to mimic his father's usual monotone, neutral expression.
"I noticed the heir to all of Wingbardy was all alone here, missing the coming dance," the woman went on. "Please, would you care if I asked for the dance?"
He looked straight ahead, breaking eye contact. "No thank you."
"Your highness, I-"
"I am soon to depart with my father, the King. I would hate to upset him by turning up late. You will have to excuse me, to that end."
The griffon stuttered, gulped, and turned about face with an artifical, loud 'hmph'. Garibald sighed before looking into the room once more. His father was right. Nobles here were such a chore. Every word, every move was artificial and meant only to further their own power and influence. Was that woman then some lowly noble, maybe a countess or baroness, that meant to seduce him to rise the ranks? Maybe. In fact, he fact, it was probable.
The griffons here were all the same. Perhaps an inkling of hope here and there with some outstanding individuals that showed merit, but a vast majority of them were much as like his father had pictured them. Which made him worried. Wingbardy was far from popular with the imperial nobility, not least because of his father's vocal criticism against the regency council, as well as the neglect Wingbardy experienced from the crown. Some sources said Wingbardy was a thorn in the empire's side... and that something was boiling underneath the surface.
Was that why the three nobles before had treated them so childishly? The animosity they showed was palpable, and the deceitful, faked kindness of theirs was only further proof of the nature of herzlander nobles. The Duke of Strawberry and his accomplices... pfft, they were rich purely because of some far-strung marriage ties to the Grovers themselves, and because of their famed wineries. A bunch of drunkards they were. A disgrace. But no less cunning and deceitful than the rest of these birds.
Garibald rummaged through a pocket of his and retrieved a golden watch. He read the time and nodded to himself before stowing the item again. Three minutes, he would best get going now.
He pushed himself off the wall and made a U-turn to leave the ballroom. Still, something pestered his mind. If the imperials couldn't be trusted, and at the same time the imperials all hated Wingbardy...
He shelved those thoughts for now, and moved along. He would have to bring it up to his father in a few minutes on the ride back.
Garibald stood close to the carriage which he had called up a minute prior, waiting for his father to arrive. He looked back and forth as he stood half-concealed in the dark outside. He retrieved his watch once more. Sixteen past eleven. It wasn't like him to be late...
There were only a handful of other griffons outside at the time. The two guards posted outside, as before, as well as a duo of female nobles talking to one another as they smoked.
Garibald perked up as he heard the vague and distant, but nonetheless distinct voice of his father approaching.
"-ing you for the last time, I am not interested."
Gumberto's voice was bold as ever as he stomped outside. He looked visibly annoyed and like he would have rather been anywhere but here. Seeing this, Garibald turned to their chauffeur sitting at the front of the carriage and instructed him to get going as soon as the two of them were inside.
"You- wha-"
Garibald's world slowed to a halt at the stunned voice of his father. He shot around to face his way in an instant. A hooded figure had caught up to his father and was pressing a claw up against his face violently. The heir to the throne of Wingbardy only briefly saw the concealed person flash a knife in front of his father.
He wanted to scream, to run to save his father, but the horrific scene was playing out all the way across the front yard. It all played out frame by frame, every single one burning itself into his mind as the scene progressed. He held out a claw... it was all his shocked form could manage.
"Y-AAARGHAAGH"
Heads turned and gasps filled the air outside as the few nobles and guards who were present looked at what was going on. A grey claw clasped around the dagger, and thrusted it deep inside the throat of the King, who could do little but gurgle and gasp in pain.
"You there! Halt immediately!"
The calls of the guards echoed throughout the yard. The figure didn't so much as look back at them as they ran towards them. The dagger was quickly pulled out of Gumberto, splattering blood in an arc, and the creature made a mad dash to vacate the scene.
The yelling of the guards had shaken Garibald out of his shocked trance, and he began to walk, then run, then sprint as fast he never had in his entire life. He pushed aside the guardgriff that had been holding the form of his father for a few seconds prior, taking him into his own embrace.
"Father! Father! Look at me! Please!"
Garibald heard a stomach-churning gurgle escape the mouth of his father. With every sound he tried to make, the wound in his throat bubbled.
"Get a doctor! Get a fucking doctor, right now!" Garibald screamed without taking his eyes off his father for a second. He heard the armour of the soldier clank as they ran off to get help. By now, the screaming and action was attracting quite the commotion and attention. More and more voices could be heard approaching the crime scene now, all mumbling and intermingling.
"Father, don't go! Be strong! Be strong like the king you always were!"
No response. Gumberto was starting to turn a sickly, pale colour, and fast. His brown eyes were quickly glazing over, halted only by Garibald's repeated shaking of his head.
"Speak to me, papa! I... I beg of you! Don't leave me! Don't go, papa!"
The wingbardian prince felt his father grasp his own claw, and he did likewise as both of them interlocked.
"S-S-Argh!"
The prince's eyes widened with horror, fear and anguish as his father's words were cut off by bloodied coughs. He was clearly trying to speak, to maybe tell him his last words, perhaps that he loved him, but not once could he manage anything more than gasps and coughs now.
"Papa! Papa!"
Garibald shook his father once, twice, thrice as he saw his father do his best to try and voice... something, anything. He could clearly see him mounting up the strength to speak as his head leaned forward to look at him properly, but the only thing that came out anymore was coughs of blood and gargling chokes.
Then, he felt his father's body relax. The scene fell silent for but a moment as the monarch passed in the claws of his son, both of them now a bloody mess.
"F-Father? Father, speak to me! Don't!"
The brown-feathered griffon shook his father's lifeless body several times over, splattering yet more blood which he didn't seem to realise in his anguish.
"SPEAK! SPEAK TO ME, DAMMIT! BOREAS BE DAMNED, DON'T GO!"
Gumberto's eyes glazed over for good, and his left claw dropped to the ground, entirely limp. The right claw, which Garibald was holding onto dearly, likewise felt limp.
"No... no!" the prince whimpered as anger and denial made way for tears. He heard hushed conversations behind and all around him as it felt like the majority of the attendees of the party had gathered to see this 'spectacle'. He swore he could even hear a muffled giggle among them.
He pulled the body of his father up, and into a tight, loving embrace. His knees were painted red by now from the pool of blood he sat in, and his suit was soaked just as much. He didn't care one bit.
Garibald pulled his father as close as he could with whatever strength he still had, now. Every second, more of his strength faded and left him, it felt. He just wanted to sit there, holding onto papa for the rest of the night. He had his eyes closed and shut out everything he could, pretending the nobility eyeing him like vultures didn't exist.
"Papa..." he whimpered quietly, leaning close to his father's left ear, his face already wet with tears by then. "Papa... don't go..."
