Chapter 16: The Writ

"Thank you," I told the healer. "His Majesty is asleep."

"Of course. I'll come back for it at noon."

He bowed again and went away down the stair, his coat flapping.

I shut the door.

I stood with my back against it, holding the folder against my chest.

"What's that?"

Auden was propped on one elbow in the bed, squinting at me.

His hair stood straight up on one side.

"Your homework," I said.

I sat on the edge of the bed and untied the ribbon and put the top page in his hands.

He read it.

I watched him read it, all the way to the bottom, to the empty line above the seal.

He'd known about the Writ his whole life. Everyone had.

But I don't think he'd ever seen it with his own name waiting under it.

"Every King signs it?" he said.

"Every King for three hundred years."

"Did he?"

"The first morning. He didn't even sit down."

Auden put the page face down on the blanket.

"Well," he said. "I'm sitting down."

He handed me the rest of the folder and kept the Writ on his knee.

"What happens if I don't sign it?"

"It's still law. It doesn't need you. It only needs you to strike it."

"Then I'll strike it."

"It isn't that easy."

"Watch me."

His father had the garden rooms now.

He was eating eggs at a little table by the window in a cardigan, looking twenty years older and more cheerful than I'd ever seen him.

"The newlyweds," he said. "Sit. Eat. You look terrible, son. Good night?"

"Dad."

"I'm only asking."

Auden put the Writ on the table beside his plate.

His father stopped smiling.

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