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Verity liked to take what he saw at face value, which he found a very reasonable approach as a second son but not so much as a King in Waiting. When a page told him about the river ship flying a blue pennant at the very masthead of the vessel, he was immediately glad for the excuse to ride down to the docks. Finding his little brother already with a half-readied horse, snapping at the stablehand to work faster, came as a surprise. Perhaps he should’ve noticed something amiss then. But at the time, he just felt sorry for the poor sod readying the horse.
“Bit cold for one of your joy rides, isn’t it?” he asked affably.
Regal glared at him, which was his normal reaction to Verity talking to him, and said, “You are an idiot, Verity!”, which was what usually followed after as well. But unlike usual, he did not stalk away with his chin and heightened heels raised high. Instead, he kept glaring and added grimly, "I will not be kept from the incoming special message. My mother the Queen told me all about that sign."
Verity had never shown any intention of keeping Regal from anything except maybe his belongings and going on about how the crown should've been his and he didn't plan to start now. Fortunately, he had largely grown out of the latter, or at least grown up enough not to talk about it where Verity could hear him. He was honestly surprised that Queen Desire even cared or remembered which flags meant what. He'd valiantly tried to stay out of her way ever since he was a child, but just like the rest of the castle, he'd overheard that she hadn't even remembered how many years she'd been married during her last drunken spat with his father. Oh, well. Verity was honestly even more impressed that Regal had cared to remember it.
Verity wouldn't call his brother stupid. At least, not to his face - he had joked with Chivalry about his ability to take even the most innocuous remark as a rebuke, although Chivalry had warned him about taking it too lightly. Chivalry was more thoughtful about these things than Verity, who took Regal's moods with good humor. He was barely even a man, with luck, he'd become more mature with age. And if not, well, he'd probably end up like his mother, making everyone around him miserable and going on drunken rants that toed the line to treason, but ultimately never achieved anything. Chivalry took all that more seriously, which was why he'd been the lauded diplomat and not Verity. But in the end, what was that mother-son duo supposed to do about their complaints, murder their way to the line of succession? They'd have to be sober long enough to do it and that would never happen. So Verity easily told him, "Sure, let's ride together then. I don't even remember the last time we did that!"
Regal wasn't half bad at riding these days, which Verity supposed he had to be to be impressive to his little lordling friends. There was a certain peace to riding the steep slope in the early dusk of the late afternoon, grinning at the old memory of Regal falling from the pony he was given to practice with back when he tried to ride a horse for the very first time. His form still put too much pressure on the horse's mouth, Burrich would be unhappy to see it. Verity considered giving his brother some pointers, but didn't quite feel like opening the door to the inevitable argument that would lead to. Maybe later, there was little enough peace to be had in his position that he had to relish every bit he got.
They did not ride quite anonymously, their horses alone were a dead giveaway to any residents of the Buckkeep court, but without any fanfare, they could be mistaken for any regular residents out on a ride, just two brothers running an errand at the docks. Verity snorted at the thought.
The brief not-quite-anonymity ended immediately when they found their way to the river ship, the crew kept a distance from them as if they carried an infectious disease. Verity considered it a shame as he quite enjoyed both the act and tales of sailing, but nothing to be done about it. Regal didn't seem to notice it, as he treated them as if they didn't exist in the first place.
It was probably for the best that they were led to the captain's cabin immediately. It was cramped but tidy, which was honestly the best one could expect from a ship this small, but Regal still turned up his nose at it. The captain herself was a solid woman, but carried herself with a painful rigidity. Well, that was his cue to take over. Regal may know how to command a room full of fashionable young nobles while Verity floundered in the subtleties of their petty intrigues, but these were his people.
"Good evening, Captain," he greeted genially. "I trust you had a safe arrival? I have heard the drought around Sansedge almost closed up the crossing to the Finicky, but you have made quite fast time getting here from what I've heard of your route."
"Oh, get to the point!" Regal snapped. "We're not here for pleasantries about your journey. You have news for us and we want to know what those are."
His tone got sickly sweet as he echoed Verity mockingly, "I trust you didn't get us down here for no reason."
Verity frowned. Regal was too impatient, he'd been building up by fishing for information about the news before asking for them outright. He didn't appreciate the interruption. But before he could make up his mind on whether it was worth scolding Regal in front of an audience, the captain replied to them.
"Good evening, sirs, and thanks for your concern," she said stiffly, not paying any mind to Regal cringing at the title she used for them. "We've hurried our route from the Branch to the Finicky because we got an urgent message from Withywood estate that has to be delivered to the King right away. As the King's own sons, I am passing it on to you."
With those words, she handed Verity a plumed baton and stepped away quickly, almost as if she were scared of what he'd do once he read it. Verity almost chuckled at how needless it was, he wasn't in the habit of shooting the messengers, no matter what news they might bring.
Then, he unwrapped the parchment attached to it and read. Regal stood on his tiptoes with almost audible anger at having to do so to look over his shoulder.
The first thing Verity noticed was Patience's handwriting. The second thing he noted was how brief it was, Patience's letters were usually long-winded, starting out with elegant looping letters and ending messy and tiny to fit as much of her thoughts as possible on the parchment.
This is a missive of Patience, Lady of Withywoods.
It is of utmost importance that it reaches King Shrewd Farseer as quickly as possible.
With unspeakable grief I must tell you that your son, my husband, Chivalry Farseer has passed away. It is said that the cause was a riding accident.
Verity stopped reading. "Are you sure this is the letter?" He asked the captain. She nodded stonily.
Verity frowned even harder. Well, that just couldn't be true. He would have felt something. He would have known. He would have-
"Yet another accident? Good old Chivalry is getting careless in his old age," Verity said without thinking, not feeling very in control of his mouth.
The captain and Regal both gaped at him. "Why would you talk about him like that? Chivalry is dead, you dolt!"
Verity barely listened to Regal's shout. He was reaching, outwards, inwards, anywhere, to find any trace of Chivalry. Chivalry was better at that than he was, he'd managed to turn his force to subtlety by his own power, was good at hiding away his Skill sense and strength and making himself into a shadow where once he'd been right in the brightest of the light. There was nothing. No assurances that all was well, no shared pain, not even any last words. Nothing.
Chivalry, Verity thought, if you are alive, I hope you know what you're doing. If you are dead...
If he was well and truly dead... Verity had no idea what would happen then, but he did not want to have to find out.
There was no peace in the ride back to Buckkeep. Verity clutched the plumed baton tightly, thinking of nothing and everything under the oppressive darkening of the skies. The clatter of hooves over stones and the howl of the wind sounded like death.
How could he not have noticed before? He was rarely deeply aware of Chivalry, except when they chose to be to talk. They were always careful about it, to not be overheard in case Galen or father tried to listen in. But now he was painfully aware of the absence of their connection, like the empty space of a tooth or limb. There was no doubt about it now - Chivalry was well and truly-
Verity pulled at the reins harshly, coming to a full stop. Regal almost went down with his horse. Oh ground us, merciful Eda, he thought fervently. Chivalry's spitting image stood at the side of the road quietly, like a specter from the tales.
Then, the vision spoke and it was not Chivalry at all, neither alive nor dead. It was his son, who shared both his name and his face, complaining of their treatment of their horses.
Regal cried out. Verity started laughing shakily and couldn't stop. How easily they'd gotten spooked! There was still no response to any of his Skill seeking. What kind of brother was he, to not notice when Chivalry faded and to mistake his son for him? He would have deserved it if Chivalry's hungry ghost had come back to haunt him.
"You thought he was a ghost, same as I. Whoah, lad, you gave us a turn, standing so quiet as that. And looking so much like him. Eh, Regal?"
Regal was not amused. He yelled at the poor fitz as if accusing him of something. Verity wasn't quite sure what conspiracy he saw in a boy running errands in the town, but he was most likely just lashing out at a handy target. The poor kid looked completely lost at the tirade.
Verity snorted and cut in to explain the situation. "Don't mind him, boy. You gave us both a bit of a turn. A river ship just came into town, flying the pennant for a special message. And when Regal and I rode down to get it, lo and behold, it's from Patience, to tell us Chivalry's dead." While talking, Verity marveled at how easily those words crossed his lips. The sky was dark. A river ship came into town. Chivalry's dead. It felt like talking about someone else's tragedy.
"Then, as we come up the road, what do we see but the very image of him as a boy, standing silent before us and of course we were in that frame of mind and-"
"You are such an idiot, Verity!" Regal spat. "Trumpet it out for the whole town to hear before the King's even been told. And don't put ideas in the bastard's head that he looks like Chivalry. From what I hear, he has ideas enough, and we can thank our dear father for that. Come on. We've got a message to deliver."
Regal rode off without him and Verity felt a pang of emotion watching him go. He was the only brother he had left now and they couldn't even get along long enough to ride from the docks to the castle together. Regal wasn't entirely wrong either. Verity was no politician, but these news were delicate in more ways than one and he'd just told his brother's son about his death as if it was merely gossip. His insides twisted painfully.
He felt a kinship with that boy in this moment as they both acknowledged their relation to poor, perfect, dead Chivalry. He didn't even know his father and yet, he was so much like him! Verity did not want to leave him on these dark roads. He did not want to be alone. But FitzChivalry declined his invitation to take him along.
"No, thank you. Burrich would take my hide off for riding a horse double on this road."
That was true enough. Verity should let it go and hurry along after Regal. But first, he had to try and put at least one thing right. "I'm sorry you found out this way. I wasn't thinking. It does not seem it can be real."
Somehow, it was this, not the letter, not Regal's shouts or his own words saying "Chivalry's dead" without stumbling, that truly made it real for him. Chivalry really was dead. And there was no lingering Skill, no ghost at the side of the roads left of him.
He had no words for the despair, the endless, lonely emptiness that spread through him in that moment. But he could not let himself feel it. He could not break down on this dark road, in front of his dead brother's son. He had to keep going and do his duty, never mind that he'd lost his brother, never mind that he'd never wanted to replace him, never mind that he'd never wanted any of this.
Verity leaned forward and his horse sprang onwards, leaving behind his nephew and the sight of his brother's ghost.