1 1 Prologue

"Mommy," said a sweet small voice. "Will you tell me a story?" The voice belonged to that of a dark haired blue eyed boy, about the age of five. He was sitting with his back against the wall, resting against a few pillows. He was a very good looking child with a sweet disposition. In his hands he held a wooden toy. It was his favorite toy, because he could move the arms and legs on it.

"Oh, I don't know…" said the beautiful woman sitting on the bed next to him. "Have you been a good little prince today?"

"Yeah huh," he replied.

"Krevik, you are a prince. You have to answer properly," she chastised him. "Now, were you a good boy today?"

"Yes ma'am," the boy said dully. "At least I tried to be!" he added slightly chipper.

She laughed. "Well at least you're honest… Okay; I'll make you a deal. I'll tell you a story, but you have to lie down and close your eyes so you can imagine it properly. Okay?"

"Kay!" He always loved it when is mother told him stories.

"Queen Isadora!" A voice interrupted the mother- son moment. Krevik looked at the man slightly upset. He had seen that look before. It always meant that his mother was going to have to go tend to something urgent. He knew his mom might have to leave any moment.

"Rodan," I was talking to Krevik."

"I'm sorry to have interrupted you," the man apologized. "I have some news." The man was a knight. He looked tired and slightly grave. The queen immediately got up from her place by Krevik's side. She stood in the doorway having a quiet conversation with the knight.

Krevik hated being left out of things! Even if he was a child he was going to have to rule someday! So, why didn't anyone trust him enough to tell him what was happening? He strained his ears to hear the hushed conversation between the knight and his mother. He stared intently at the knight in his arms. He soon began to pretend that the knight in his arms had come to him with urgent business. The kingdom was out of grape jelly, something needed to be done!

"Understood," said the man, pulling Krevik out of his reverie. "You can count on me my Queen." Then the man was gone. Krevik watched his mother stare after the man for a moment. He knew his mother was troubled. He could tell with the way she hunched her shoulders forward slightly. Krevik suddenly became angry with himself. If only he had been paying attention!

Krevik's mother turned back to Krevik. For a split second he saw the worry on her face. She walked up to him and, smiling she took the toy from Krevik's hand. She placed it on the mahogany dresser.

"Let's begin your story now," she said. As she said this she turned around. "Now lay down and I'll start…"