Eikons Made Them Do It

It's been days now since Joshua's been gripped by a terrible itch that can't be scratched. It sits just beneath his skin, unsettling, leaving him restless. It's as if every bit of him has been pricked and plucked, a fire of muted embers waiting to be re-lit. By the third day he had figured it was the Phoenix that was making him feel that way, that the bird within him was feeling caged. In a way it made sense; it had been sometime since he had fully primed or even semi-primed. The creature within wanted to unfurl and stretch its wings, quite literally.

But there was no opportunity nor reason to.

An accumulation of aether though, without any safe means to release it, wasn't exactly a healthy state to be in. Some evenings he felt feverish, too hot to sleep with sheets, let along a nightgown. During the day he felt sick to his stomach. Clive, of course, worried, as did the rest of those at his court. What was he to do though? All he could do was lie and reassure them that he was fine. That it would pass.

But he wasn't.

It wouldn't do Rosaria any good for its leader to be cagey and his mood was spreading to others despite his best attempt to keep his problems to himself. He could never keep away from Clive though. Not for long, nor did he want to. It's in his throne room one evening, past the time where all should be in bed, that Clive finds him pacing about. Bare feet walk over the cool stones of the floor deliberately before he comes to a stop, realizing that his brother is there, watching him. He must look a sight, hair messed and dressed in nothing but his linen nightgown, walking about like a phantom without a purpose.

"I'm fine." He speaks before Clive can question him, the nails of one hand scratching at his wrist. Clive doesn't seem convinced.

Coronation

Somehow, despite all odds, Joshua Rosfield had survived his coronation.

After all the preparations and build up to the inevitable, he had ascended to his place as Archduke, taking over his father's seat on the throne. It was a proud moment for all, even though his mother's disdain for Clive standing at his right hand side as his First Shield was obvious. She had been finally put in her place however, as politely as Joshua could muster, once all the ceremony and pomp had been dealt with. Annabella had taken it as well as he expected her to, but he was in charge now. No longer could she torment Clive or voice her displeasure. It was his court now and Rosaria had become prosperous over the years. Besides, he had become what she had wanted and now there was nothing more for her to chase after.

Or so he hoped.

He could worry about his mother later. What he really was concerned with now was peeling himself out of the ceremonial robes and dress that he'd been put in earlier. With the feast done and merriment lasting through the night, Joshua had excused himself after he'd eaten and drank what he could. The quiet reprieve of his chambers was what he sought out, even if it would be difficult to get out of his clothes alone. A familiar knock on his door has his heart skipping, a small smile creeping onto his face.

Maybe, Founder willing, he wouldn't have to take them off alone after all.

"You may enter."