“Prince Wilym of Greater Jolorus to see you sir,” Mattis calls from the doorway.

Sylvester Sanserr waves his hand once to signal the Prince inward, but does not look up from the piece of paper he is holding, “Come, sit down.”

The prince enters slowly and traverses the room as if it were a minefield before finally coming to rest in the hand-carved oak wood chair across the desk. Sylvester puts the paper in a drawer of his desk and turns the lock. He looks up at the prince, if the scrawny man he sees even deserves to be called such, and makes a private bet about his purpose. It’s a game he likes to play, and he’s hardly ever wrong. The prince is probably here to gain some confidence or protection to face a threat to his current seat of power.

“So, what brings you here to see me, instead of enjoying the spa downstairs? I’ve been told I’m not very good company”

“Well, um, you see, sir, it’s my sister.”

Sylvester puts another checkmark in his mental scorebook, “yes?” he prompts.

“Well you see, sir, we’re competing for the same seat, the family seat,” the prince says, “That’s how we order the government on greater Jolorus. You see, when we were founded-“

“Yes, yes I know about the traditions of all the high council planets, and most of the low council ones too. And stop calling me sir it’s insufferable.”

“Yes, of course, sorry si- Mr, Mr Sanserr.”

“So you want some information that will give an unfair advantage over your sister.”

“Well no sir, just something that would help,” the prince says, rubbing his nose and darting his eyes about the room.

“Yes, Prince Wilym, that is exactly what you want,” Sylvester replies, “and I will get it for you, and I will keep your secret. The question comes now to this- what are you willing to do in return?”

“I have lots of gold-“ the prince starts.

“I have no interest in gold,” Sylvester says, “I am the owner of one of the most successful hotels in the galaxy.”

“I could maybe get you a place on one of the planetary councils,” he tries.

“Ha!” Sylvester smirks, “and lose my current seat of power?”

“Oh,” the prince says, “ I didn’t know you had a seat.”

“Yes, right here, in this office. This is my great hall,” he indicates his chair, “this is my throne, and you,” he points at the prince, “you are one of my loyal subjects, for I am the lord of secrets.”

The prince’s face scrunches up, evidently he is confused by this remark.

“But how can you be a lord over something that can’t possibly know you’re its lord?”

“But I am lord of the secrets, my boy. I collect them, I keep them safe, and I make trades with other countries for our common benefit, which brings me back to your end of the bargain. I will find something you can use against your sister if you can bring me a secret about one of the family heads.”

“What?” the prince says, or rather, squeaks, “betray one of the family heads? How am I even supposed to get to them in the first place?”

“no,no, no,” Sylvester shakes his head, “it’s not betrayal, because I will never tell anybody else about their secret, so you don’t need to worry about it. As for how, I’m sure you’ll figure something out, you’re a smart lad aren’t you?”

“Yes, sir, best in my class actually.”

“Well then,” Sylvester says, ignoring the sir yet again, “you’ll have no problem I’m sure.”

“okay-“ the prince looks unsure.

“The choosing ceremony happens four earth weeks from now, yes?”

The prince nods.

“Well then, come back here in three with something, and you’ll get the information you need. If you can’t get anything, or you decide you don’t want the information, just don’t come,” Sylvester stands, “ It’s been nice doing business with you, Mattis will lead you out.”

The prince stands and turns, knocking a cup full of pens to the floor. He turns around, mortified, but Sylvester holds up a hand, “no need to worry, I can pick them up myself.”

The prince nods quickly and speed walks out. Sylvester sits back down and shakes his head. He never would have let a potential opponent see him so scared. It didn’t matter, however, he was about to get top-level information in exchange for the secrets of a young girl. He couldn’t think of an easier score. Sylvester sits back in his chair and smiles, he couldn’t think of any place he’d rather be.

“He’s gone sir,” Mattis says when he re-enters the room.

“Good,” Sylvester responds, “now come over here and clean up these pens.”

Next Chapter: Jet 1