Jerof

by Phoebe Nix

  Finoa groaned. “They think you’re an unfit leader. That you cannot possibly do what father did, as if all those wars you won were for the fun of it. It is ridiculous,” Finoa yelled. “To hell with Lor and Gul, we can proceed without them. When they see us progressing, they will eventually want to be part of the Allegiance.”

  “I am afraid that is never how it works,” Tyr said. “That is merely the best-case scenario.”

  “We need to find a way to change their mind. Perhaps, we could send them gifts, or a letter written by yourself, of course.”

  Before the king passed, Jerof would have gone with Finoa’s suggestion: to do as planned no matter what got in the way. But now that he was actually responsible for the lives of millions of people on Hagran, decisions were not so simple to make.

  He remained silent, leaning back as he scratched his chin. He glanced at Finoa, who looked anxious. Lor and Gul were kingdoms with at least a handful of allies. Losing them would also mean losing other kingdoms with lesser power – but combined, the loss was severe.

  “Jerof,” Finoa called. “What are you thinking? I think father would have chosen to go on without them.”

  Jerof shook his head. “Father never took impulsive decisions,” he said, his eyes fixed on the table. “I will think of something. However we reach out to them needs to be well thought out. I do not blame them for thinking I would not be as good of a leader as King Lamnox.” His voice wavered. “They are not wrong in that regard.”

  Akar and Tyr tilted their heads down as the King’s name was spoken. Suddenly, Akar seemed to have more respect for Jerof.

  “It is true that King Lamnox was irreplaceable, my lord, but instead of trying to be a second version of him, I think the best version of yourself would be more beneficial,” Akar said. “They think you are unfit because they deem you reckless. They only hear about the legends. And I believe the only time they have ever met you in one of the Summits, you were delivered troubling news that made you act unlike your character.”

  “You are too kind,” Jerof said, sighing.

  Jerof did not particularly value the opinions of either of these advisors, but he had to act less like the hot-tempered Prince that everyone knew. Although revered by the people, he had heard the concerns about residents finding him too immature to run the kingdom in a way that would keep them all safe.

  “I believe you can bring the kingdoms together, brother,” Finoa said. “Change scares Hagrans. It is in their nature. No matter what the change is, you will always find them complaining. Give it a while. Please, do not change the course of our plans because of some rumors.”

  “It is no rumor that the two kingdoms refuse to cooperate. Whether the leaders have the right idea about me or not is something I must work on. I will be crowned king in a matter of days. I am no longer a popular public figure. I am expected to lead, and that is what I shall prove.”

  Tyr and Akar nodded, surprised by Jerof’s words. It wasn’t the first time the three of them had argued. Usually, it was never in the presence of the king, but the advisors were not the only government officials who doubted Jerof’s ability to lead the country. He was becoming more like his father in demeanor and temper.

  Many a time Jerof had lashed out at his own father in the midst of a Council meeting and would calm down with a dismissive wave from him. By the looks of it, Jerof was growing to have the same influence.

  Akar parted his lips as he was about to say something, but was interrupted by a guard who came rushing in. He was clad in a full metal armor and had a spear in hand, although the latter was for merely decorative purposes.

  “Sirs,” the guard said, bowing. “I am terribly sorry to interrupt, but the king of Clan Carr is here. He says it is urgent”

  Finoa slammed a fist on the table. “Not Carr, too,” she said.

  “Let him in,” Jerof ordered.

  “This cannot be good,” Finoa mumbled.

  Jerof held a hand up. “Sister, please.”

  King Urik of Clan Carr strutted in his with bejeweled robe and glowing staff. He was about as miniscule as Liz in comparison to Jerof’s size, but his facial expressions made him look intimidating.

  “Greetings,” he said as he walked in and pulled a chair out for himself. “Sorry to stop by uninvited.” He smiled, showing both rows of his teeth. “I wanted to pay my condolences in person as well as talk to you about my clan.”

  “Thank you. Your clan,” Jerof echoed, exhaling an exhausted sigh.

  Jerof had been promised to King Urik’s daughter long before Liz appeared in the picture. Jerof had not, for one day, forgotten about it. In fact, it was all he thought about. His excuse that he had met the human he was destined to be with, according to his own mother, was not going to cut it.

  The Prince felt a sting grow in his chest; he felt helpless. His father was never good friends with the King of Carr, but that was precisely the reason why Jerof had to marry his daughter. It was predicted to avoid decades, if not centuries of war between the two kingdoms. It was time for all kingdoms of Hagran to unite against the Outreach, which was never going to be happen when the kings of Hagran were in constant dispute over land, resources and power.

  Jerof had never even met this man’s daughter, but he had a good enough idea of what she was like – almost as repulsive in demeanor as her father. Although his own father’s marriage was one of convenience, he eventually fell in love with Jerof’s mother down the line. Jerof knew that was never going to happen in his case. He was just going to live the rest of his life with a partner he couldn’t bear looking at or speaking to.

  Before Jerof could open his mouth to make up an excuse for not inviting him sooner, Council members Belut and Murrn walked in wearing interpreting collars – possibly expecting to talk to the Earthling.

  Jerof was not going to let that happen.

  “You are late,” Jerof spat.

  While he would have his fair share of arguments with every member in the council, Belut and Murrn were inveterate in their hostile demeanors. They did not simply deem Jerof reckless, but believed the Kingdom would meet its disintegration once the Prince was crowned. They would even argue with the King himself to consider Finoa as a leader, despite her young age.

  The other alternative if many Kings were to agree that Jerof was unfit to rule, was to compel him to fight for his life during the Summit. That was what his father had been afraid of before he died and had tried so hard to prevent. Then again, he’d given his blessing to Jerof and Liz but Jerof knew that the consequences of such a marriage was never going to take place without an alpha battle in the Summit.

  “You always are, and we do not have time to waste. I think we are just in time,” Belut acridly responded as he sat down.

  Jerof narrowed his eyes.

  “Moving on,” King Urik continued. “We have yet to agree when my daughter will be bound to you in wedlock. You understand that the Allegiance will never be successful without this,” he paused, waving his hand about, “crucial step.”

  “We must discuss this another day,” Jerof demanded, getting ready to get up.

  “Prince Jerof,” Belut called out. “The King of Carr himself came all the way here for a date. It has already been planned. Your father is one who keeps his word. You must not tarnish the image of a man who died a hero because of some Earthling invader.”

  “Earthling?” Urik jerked in his seat. “What is this about an Earthling?”

  “We’re only hosting her as a guest. Calm down,” Finoa interrupted before Jerof could respond. “She is a victim of harvesting, and if anything, we are only protecting her.”

  “It is because of Earthlings that we are in this mess in the first place, and you are hosting this alien right under your roof?”

  “That is enough,” Jerof hollered, balling his fists.

  Jerof would often lose his temper at Council meetings. It was one of the chief reasons that Kings did not approve of him as a leader. Although, his father had usually been th
e same way, he would quickly recollect himself.

  But once Jerof snapped, all hell would break loose.

  The Kings thought of him as an irreplaceable warrior, but a poor choice for a leader, all strength and no brains is how a lot of them described him. But they were wrong; Jerof had been brought up by one of the best rulers the Kingdom had ever seen.

  “Raising your voice at the King of Carr,” Murrn murmured, shaking his head with a sarcastic grin. “How civil.”

  “The coronation as well as the wedding will be delayed. I cannot tell you when either will be held,” Jerof said, tilting his head down to avoid eye contact with the King Urik.

  He rose from his seat, pushing his chair back as it screeched on the floor. “Excuse me,” he muttered, turning around and storming out the door.

  If Jerof were to stay any longer, he would have told the King of Carr that the wedding was never going to happen. Much like Finoa, he was impulsive and would often make decisions on a whim. Right now, all he wanted to do was tell King Urik to go back to where he had come from and never show his face again.

  But he couldn’t do that now. He had to learn to control his temper.

  Much to the dismay and shocked looks of everyone sitting at the Council table, Jerof left the room and made his way to the terrace.

  Chapter 16

  Jerof took a breath of fresh air and sighed. Gazing out at the city was usually a quick fix when he needed to clear his head, but nothing seemed to work when everything was piling up at an impossible rate. He’d thought that Liz’s arrival would be his answer to everything; she was the perfect excuse for him to postpone any arrangements that he wasn’t ready for.

  He was wrong.

  The leaders were not going to take no for an answer. Not when galactic peace was on the line.

  The King of Carr wasn’t one to care about peace, as much as he did about securing his clan’s future. That was what made it so infuriating. Each leader only acted to his own convenience. Letting down King Urik was only going to exacerbate Jerof’s chances of being accepted as a leader. It wasn’t just about Carr, but the number of kings who were in disagreement with Jerof was growing. It didn’t matter what he was capable of – eventually the rest were going to follow and decide that he was unfit to rule Url, let alone lead the Planetary Allegiance.

  The city aircrafts whirred as they flew in their lanes, Jerof’s eyes following them as he zoned out.

  He had felt a connection with Liz the moment he'd laid his eyes on her. But no member of the Council was going to value that. Wedlock in Royal families was only done out of convenience. There was no such thing as a fated mate, unless of course, said mate was destined to bind families together.

  Jerof shook his head as he scoffed. With his arms along the railing, he lowered his head and closed his eyes. He had to go back there eventually, otherwise he was just going to prove those members right.

  It wasn’t just his attraction to Liz, but a piece of the puzzle that was missing. Liz had appeared at such a crucial time for a reason, and he was yet to find out why. The members would only dismiss this as superstitious shenanigans; there was no point in bringing it up, especially not to the King of Carr. Footsteps behind him interuppted his thoughts.

  “My lord,” Tyr called. “They are waiting for you.”

  “I know,” Jerof replied. “It just feels like I have reached a dead-end. Even if I do what everyone says, they are still going to find some excuse to prove I am unfit to rule. All these expectations in such little time. I do not know what to do anymore.”

  “Although I would normally avoid giving you such advice, but I have always found it goes my way when I go with my gut,” Tyr advised. “As long as my gut does not tell me to marry an Earthling. Whatever your father told you about that female, think twice. Think about the good of Url.”

  “I know, that is what is making it impossible for me,” Jerof argued. “I do not know if marrying Urik’s daughter is the best choice for this kingdom. Father made that promise long ago. Things were a little more stable then. I feel like the whole thing will just seem staged to everyone else. As much as the people like tradition, they hate anything disingenuous. And Carr can be a little extremist. Urik is not exactly the most popular King on Hagran.”

  Tyr nodded. “But people also value sticking to one’s word, my Lord. They do not like change. And any rash decisions before the coronation would not serve you well.”

  “What do you want me to do?”

  “It is not my decision. I may only guide you, as vaguely as I do. But it is all up to you. That is what makes you a ruler.”

  “I am not King yet.”

  “You are. A coronation is just to declare it. Until then, such matters are solely in your hands.”

  Tyr’s staff thwacked on the floor tiles. “Do you not fancy the Council room?”

  “I’ll be right there.” Jerof said calmly. “I just needed to clear my head.”

  “Whenever you are ready.”

  It wasn’t long before Jerof ambled back to the meeting room, his eyes wandering across the table as he sat down. The members could see there was plenty going on in his head, and Tyr recognized that face. He didn’t like it one bit.

  “Gentlemen,” Jerof began.

  Tyr shot Jerof a glare and shook his head.

  “Thank you for your patience,” Jerof continued.

  “This is going to be disastrous,” Belut murmured to Murrn, who nodded with a grin as he anticipated the speech.

  “My Lord,” Jerof said, looking the King of Carr in the eye. “My father had once promised me to your daughter. I must declare my utmost respect to your Kingdom and clarify that my decision does not in any way affect how much I value you and your people.”

  “What is this?” The King was already getting vexed.

  “However, I must also clarify that I shall not be wed to your daughter.”

  Belut stifled his laughter.

  “Is this about the Earthling leech?” the King asked, glancing at Belut before looking back to Jerof. He scanned him as he spoke, as if he couldn’t recognize him any longer. “You are turning down my daughter for some peasant? For an invader? An enemy?”

  “My decision has nothing to do with the Earthling,” Jerof elaborated. “I do not think the wedding would be as convenient as it once was. As much as I cherish your Kingdom, I have never even met your daughter, my Lord. It was and always has been a wedding of convenience. I believe things have taken a different course, and such a pledge is no longer valid.”

  The King banged his staff on the floor. “Your father gave me his word,” he bellowed. “They were right about you. You are nothing but a fool. You are demolishing everything your father died to build.”

  “I demolish nothing,” Jerof spoke softly. “I only seek the best for my Kingdom, as you do for yours. And I simply no longer believe this wedding will ameliorate our situation. It surely would not exacerbate it, but it would be futile. Such ways have died out. Families do not have to be brought together through wedlock.”

  “You dare question Hagran tradition?” Murrn spat.

  “Surely, if the tradition is corrupt or impractical. And in this case, it is both. I acknowledge the popular vote, but a ruler is crowned for a reason. It is I who makes the political model, not my people and not yours,” he explained. “If the purpose of binding our families together is to pave the way for peace, then we must declare it. Not host a Royal wedding that depletes our resources. All it takes is an announcement.”

  The King of Carr was furious, his whole head turning red. “This is nonsense.”

  “I agree,” Murrn joined. “My Lord, are you aware of your current position and reputation amongst the Kingdoms of Hagran? It would not behoove you to make such Earthly post-modern decisions.”

  Jerof knocked his clenched fist on the table. “Will you stop assuming that my decisions are affected by the Earthling? This is not about her, and it is not about blindly following some outdated tradition that does not be
tter our situation in any way. Those weddings are nothing but exuberant celebrations that our people like because they want something to break their daily routines. It holds no true meaning. We will never progress this way.”

  “Your father,” the King of Carr said before being interrupted.

  “My father was also a progressive leader. He was the one to declare the first peace treaty passed between Url and Ludora. The people were furious; they wanted war. There was no peace without war – they thought. But my father proved them wrong. There will always be a first time for everything, and the people never like it. Because like Tyr says, people do not like change. They are afraid of it. This is exactly why we exist. This is why we crown princes.”

  There was a long silence in the room, all of the members’ eyes wide, exchanging glances as they tried to process Jerof’s speech.

  “Very well, then,” Urik announced. “But you must know that this will never end well. You call it progressiveness,” he scoffed. “You’re like an adolescent wolf who thinks he can take on a pack of Wandercats. You might last a while in the battle, but it will only end with your demise.”

  “Do not speak to me in rhetoric,” Jerof sneered. “What is your stance?”

  “Jerof!” Tyr called out, like he was disciplining a child.

  “What is your stance, my Lord?” Jerof hissed.

  The king guffawed. “Oh, child,” he said through a sinister grin. “You are aware that if all the Kings, along with myself, dismiss your leadership in the Summit that you will have to prove yourself in the ring?” He grinned. “I was not speaking in metaphors. It is your fate. You might be one of the greatest warriors on the planet, but you will not make it out alive from the ring. You can take on the forest beasts on your own, but you cannot take us all down.”

  “I would love to prove you wrong.”

  The king rose. “I will see you in the ring, child.”

  Jerof remained seated. “I look forward to it.”

  Chapter 17