Prince
“That’s mine,” Fingernails pressed into the palms of the prince’s hands hard enough to form angry half moons in his honey skin. The platinum circlet that signified his royalty was falling askew in his dark curls. His eyes, usually a rusty color, sharpened and darkened. To someone who had lived at court most of my life, it meant only one thing: a tantrum was brewing.
“Of course it is,” A tall, blond haired man responded almost immediately. His stance remained relaxed, but the worry bled through in his voice. One didn’t have to see his fan flash the signal for calmness to know what his objective was. “I’m sure she was just returning it to you.”
I saw him consider this, watching the woman through keen eyes. She was holding something close to her chest, but it was impossible to see what it was. Prince Arkin obviously knew however, because he held out his hand for it. Reluctantly the woman handed over a plain black case, no bigger than her hand, and turned and fled down the hall. As she ran past, the tears on her face were readily apparent.
“I want it examined,” the prince ground out. “I won’t have it damaged.” He hadn’t quite come down from the level of a temper tantrum, and I could feel myself cringing back from the front of the crowd, trying to avoid those wrathful eyes. A few more steps and I could leave without being noticed.
“Sela,” Lars’ voice pitched his voice to be heard above the noise, and his tone was stern to match. It seemed that people melted away from me at the sound of my name, widening the circle of the crowd so that I was alone with the two noblemen. “Will you help us?”
The question was gentle, but I couldn’t miss the signal for urgency that Lars flashed to accompany it. I didn’t want the prince to have a full temper tantrum either, so I stepped steadily forward and held out my hand for the object. It wasn’t as though I didn’t know it.
“Not here,” the prince said, instead motioning that I should follow him away from the crowd. I did, torn between what I liked about this and what I thought might be more problematic. I dearly wished to be as far away from a large group of people as possible, but Prince Arkin was hardly my first choice of companion. Yet there was little I could do if he wanted me.
He swept ahead of me, steadily leading us down the hallway, and down another hallway besides. The walk was familiar, and I was hardly surprised when we swept into his old nursery. It had long since been turned into a study, but I couldn’t help the shiver that ran up my spine at the room. He held out a seat for me, and I took it without much pleasure, but it wasn’t until he had sat down as well that he placed the black pouch on the table with a soft clunk.
“May I?” I asked, reaching for the pouch, and he spread his hands, as though to say I was welcome to it. The leather pouch was soft with wear, but it had been well cared for and I couldn’t say that it was in bad condition. The tiny threads I had woven into the pouch were all but invisible, and even I couldn’t tell what was inside the leather.
I used the sleeve of my robe to open the pouch, but was presented with the prince’s handkerchief so that I could take the flat black stone out of its container. The smooth oval had surprising weight, but even more than that was the weight of one of the most complex patterns I had ever woven. Once the stone was in my hand, I could feel the pattern calling to me, it’s weaver, in such a loud way it was almost obnoxious. I could immediately tell that the weaves in the stone were in excellent condition.
I laid down the stone, and picked up the pouch again, this time inspecting its weave. While it was mostly in good condition, it had some places where the weaves of the stone might leak through if not repaired. It was quick work to repair them, however, and I was soon slipping the stone back into the pouch, glad that I could end this quickly.
“Everything is well, your highness,” I murmured, sliding the items and his handkerchief back across the table.
“Good,” he said, and for a moment I thought he was going to dismiss me, but he just leaned back in his chair. “How have you been?”
“Well, your highness,” I replied careful to keep my eyes from meeting his. I had learned a lot of bad habits growing up, and I didn’t think he would be amenable to that excuse.
“The party to celebrate my return from Shaesta will be tomorrow,” he said in response.
“I know, your highness, we’re all glad to have you back with us.” I told him. “I am certain it will be a party you will enjoy greatly.”
“You’re not going?” He asked seemingly surprised. I almost spit out my negative response, but I couldn’t find the words to do so. And then I remembered that it would be in my best interest not to let him know why I wouldn’t be going.
“I will be in the middle of a project tomorrow, I will make it if I am able,” I said.
“If you were truly glad to have me back you would be going,” he replied smartly. I had forgotten how well he twisted words.
“There are many people who are glad you have returned safely who will not be attending tomorrow,” I told him as carefully as I could.
“But they weren’t invited,” his words were so sharp that I couldn’t feel guilty for my own response. I looked down at my hands, hoping that he would leave it at that and let it go.
“Sela, I would really like you to be there.” The sincerity in his voice made me look up. Had I missed something? Was there something here that I wanted to stay for? My plans were already in action, but perhaps I was making the wrong decision.
“If I can,” I managed. I didn’t think I could say anything else at that moment. He had been gone so long I had almost forgotten the way he had once talked to me. Once he had claimed me as his own, and I had to remind myself that it wasn’t the case anymore. If it were, he wouldn’t have stayed away so long.
“If I order you to come, you’ll have to leave aside your project and go, correct?” He said, completely changing tactics. I looked at him sharply. He was right, we were far from equals, and most would consider even his wish for me to go an order, but that he would say it that way removed all possibility of what I had been thinking. There was nothing left here for me.
“You once told me that you would never make me do anything I truly didn’t want to do,” I told him, my voice low but my fan cutting across my left wrist in a swift motion. If he saw the motion he didn’t react.
“It’s just a party, Sela,” he said instead. “It would just be nice to see you there, among your peers.”
Of course. This was about the cursory title that the king had bestowed upon me to ensure that I was well within the crown’s control. I stood up from the table, angry for the first time during the exchange. He rose when I did, gripping my hand as though to make sure I didn’t leave.
“As I have said before, I will be busy tomorrow,” I said, fighting to keep my voice level. “I have my duty and I will see to it. You should do the same.”
“And when you refuse to do your duty?” His voice turned dark as well, and his eyes sharpened again from their usually muddy color.
“I hope never to have to make such a decision, but if need be I will join the political prisoners. I know the consequences of my actions.” His grip was hurting me now, but I did not let it show on my face. “You’d be well to remember that if you did not do your duty people would suffer for it, Arkin.”
“My duty is to you first and foremost, you know that.” He said firmly. “You’re my –”
“Your witch,” I cut him off. “So I’ve heard. But you aren’t king yet, your highness. And you won’t need a witch for a few years yet, so I’ll thank you to leave me be until then.”
I shook free of him and took my leave. I was mistaken to think things might be different just because he’d returned home. He was more spoiled now than he’d ever been, and I had no intention of ever being in the same room with him again.