Father

"My... what??" Roland hadn't considered the fact that his father would still be living.

"You poor sweet darling. It was difficult in the dark, but now that I see you in the light, you are your father's son. Let me tell you of your tragic past. Your sweet, wonderful mother died soon after you were born, and you were kidnapped! We searched so long for you, but alas, you had been stolen away to Klain. And put in an orphanage, you say!! The cruelty of it all, oh my sweet child."

She embraced him again.

"I have sacrificed to the Deity for years for your safety. And now, in this hour, you have returned! We can embrace you to our fold and call you by your true name, Derek."

"How can you be so sure that's me?" Roland tried to pretend he'd never heard Amelia's tale. He'd likely be highly skeptical of Titania's out of the blue claims. "I'm just a random orphan from Klain."

She pulled back and looked into his face. "The Rhone amulet you wear. No simple orphan of Klain would have such a trinket. Your departed mother's charm went missing the same day you were stolen from us. And when I touched it, it defended you. The princess's charm would only be loyal to her own child. I was too shocked at first to put it together, but soon realized. Oh, child, twenty years without you!"

Tears streamed down her face, which conveyed grief and love and hope. It was a startling contrast to the cold, evil woman he'd heard about from Amelia.

"I want to hear all about your life, and recollect every moment of time we lost with you. But first, you must come with me. Your father awaits you, Derek."

Curiosity got the better of Roland and he stood to follow her. She kept hold of his hand to pull him along, making him slightly uncomfortable. This ageless grandmother of his was either very committed to her ruse of having missed him, or some part of her actually had.

He tamped down the urge inside him to simply accept the familial love and go along with it. The Shermans were wonderful people, but those years of wandering alone in the streets had left a gap in his heart that yearned for his real family. Titania's open display of affection threatened to pry it open.

He hardened his heart instead. If this woman had murdered his mother, she had no place in his life. Straightening his shoulders, he let her lead him out of the tent and through the encampment.

He couldn't help but take stock of their numbers and weapons as they walked. For all the time he and the other soldiers had spent searching for the Rhone, he thought they would be spending all their time invisible.

It seemed they liked the light. Perhaps the difficulty lay in the way they traveled; There was no obvious path to or from the camp, but if they traveled in the Dark Place, there would never be any way to track them to their location.

There were dozens of tents in the camp, probably containing hundreds of soldiers. He didn't see any horses or cavalry, but he also hadn't caught view of the entire camp. He wondered what their capabilities were outside use of the wolves. Did they have skilled archers? Siege armaments? They had studied some potential war strategies in training, but he didn't recognize any of those here.

They came to a central area of the camp where a training ring of sorts was set up. Two men in the middle circled each other, each wielding one of the long spears that he had seen the Rhone carry. Their footwork was slow, but deliberate.

"Do you like our spears?" Titania asked him quietly, "So much better than Klain's rudimentary swords. Unwieldy weapons with no balance or grace. Who could fight well using such a thing?"

Roland was chagrined at her assessment. It's true he was simply awful with the swords of Klain, but Riley was a force to be reckoned with. He would keep that to himself and treat her question as rhetorical.

She sighed, "Your father is a truly great warrior, and you must take after him. I'm sure you will excel once you are trained in the proper implements."

He stared at her. "You... want to train me?"

"Of course, Derek! The only son of my only son, you of course will be trained as an heir should be." She squeezed his hand and directed his gaze back to the ring.

He looked more closely at the combatants and his eyes widened. One of the two men looked almost exactly like him. The curls in his hair fell in the same way, the bridge of his nose had the same slight bend. It was uncanny. The main difference was a touch of grey at his temples, and that the dark void radiating from the man's eyes was exactly like Titania's.

As soon as the thoughts flew through his mind, the man attacked. The flowing way he used his spear was bewitching. He seemed to almost hypnotize his opponent with the fluid way his spear swung first one way, then the other. His opponent quickly hit the ground with the tip of the Crown Prince's spear at his throat, to the approving murmurs of those watching.

He did not smile or help the man up from the ground, but walked toward his mother. He bowed deeply to Titania, eyeing her hand as it still held Roland's. Feeling the pressure of self-consciousness added to his own discomfort, Roland finally pulled his hand away. Though he'd noticed that all the Rhone's eyes were ominously dark, the Queen and Prince had especially foreboding gazes that he would rather not cross.

"Prince Duncan, well fought." Titania complimented.

"Thank you, Mother. To what do I owe this visit to the training circle?" He rose from his bow.

"I have brought you the most precious of gifts," She reached back and took Roland by the shoulders, bringing him forward, "Look who has returned to us after twenty long years."

Duncan eyed his mother with curious confusion underneath his unflappable exterior. He knew her to sometimes play cruel jokes, but this would be a new one. Shifting his attention to the young man in simple garb by her side, his eyes widened.

It was like looking into a young mirror, except his wife's eyes were staring back at him. How had he not noticed immediately? The striking pure blue of the young man's gaze was unique to the woman he had lost as she gave birth to their...

"How?" Duncan turned on his mother, his tone harsh. Those nearby shied away slightly. Their monarch could be unpredictable, and being challenged by her enraged heir made for a potentially volatile situation. "What, and how, has this occurred? If this is a cruel prank I would have it end now."

"It is no prank, my son." Titania breezed past her son's insolence as she enthusiastically detailed their lost heir's return. "Derek has spent twenty years as a captive in Klain. They did not even tell him his name, or his origin! They left him in an orphanage as a common brat, thinking he was unloved in all the world while we yearned for him. But now here he stands, with Liberty's leaf around his neck."

Duncan winced at his wife's name. It had been so long since he'd heard it. He glanced at Roland's neck and swallowed as he observed the charm that rested there. It had been Duncan's betrothal gift to Liberty as a symbol of her acceptance into the royal line.

"And now that they have poisoned his mind for twenty years and raised him in their image, they graciously decided to send a useless, weak heir back to us as revenge?" Duncan asked heartlessly.

Roland remained silent and grim. Sure, he was no great warrior and had never held aspirations to rule anything, but the assessment still seemed harsh. He wasn't useless. The fact that the assessment came from his birth father gave it some added sting.

He reminded himself that the man in front of him hadn't seen him since his birth, had never spoken directly to him, and never observed anything about him. His statements were subjective assumptions and not facts or even evidence-based opinion.

"How harsh you are, Duncan! It was not Derek's fault our enemy stole him from our bosom on the very day of his mother's death. What a blow of grief we endured at their hands! We should be celebrating the return of our lost one, embracing and welcoming him." Titania chided with tears in her eyes.

Duncan stared at her, gave one last sparing glance at Roland filled with indecipherable emotion, and turned back to the training ring. "Who's next?"

Titania ignored her son's rude departure. Roland thought even a monarch's son would have to ask permission to be excused rather than just turning his back on her, but perhaps she was granting him grace after the emotional blow he had received.

He had not imagined ever having a father, other than Dr. Sherman standing in for the role. It was a new and fascinating thought. Titania made as if to leave, and Roland bowed slightly.

"Your Majesty," He said, "If I may... might I stay and observe the sparring?" He wanted to observe more about his father. Amelia had said something about Roland's mother softening his heart. Maybe that capacity was still there, and war could be prevented.

Titania's eyes shined as she looked at him, "Of course you want to learn combat as soon as possible! Your instruction must have been miserable under Klain's compulsory service. I've heard of their incompetence. What a bright, studious grandson I am blessed with. Guard, bring Derek a spear so that his father can begin his training at once!"