Tomorrow morning…
You sit up on your bed and rub your eyes with a sigh. Judging from the position of the sun, you realize you've woken up earlier than usual. So has everyone, you think, as you hear noises coming from outside.
You have some time before morning training
"Amah." Xavier's lips curl into a faint smile as you approach him. He looks clean and healthy, a little bit hopeful.
He eats with the soldiers, sleeps in their dormitory, and uses their clothes. None of them is fit for a prince, but you doubt he minds it. He lost the privilege of being a noble a long time ago. Now he's not treated differently than a soldier.
Being a soldier is better than a prisoner, Atheris always says. "You look good." You put your hand on his shoulder.
"I'm grateful for your help," he says. "No one has dared to mistreat me ever since you scolded them."
"You're welcome, Xavier." You withdraw your hand slowly. He smiles, looking down at his feet. He feels nervous under your gaze, you realize.
"I must go." He rubs the back of his neck. You don't understand where he's supposed to go, but you nod anyway. He nods back and walks away from you, making his way to the dormitory
Sir Arnold is harsher than usual, you realize. He has a deep frown on his face instead of an ambitious smile. It seems he desperately wants you to be as strong as possible.
It makes sense, knowing that great danger awaits you all.
"You must train more," Sir Arnold says, breathing heavily. He takes a moment to wipe the sweat off his face. "We must increase the effort and pace."
He exhales deeply before putting his hand on your shoulder. "I've seen two wars in my life, Amah. I still have nightmares about them. Many died on the battlefield. I lost my father, mother and brother. I lost my friends."
It's the first time he's told you about his family. You've never really conversed with him upon such subjects. He pays attention to the future but never looks back at the past.
"My brother and father were murdered in front of my eyes," he continues. "The war lasted for a year. When I returned home, I found my mother dead. She was ill, and I wasn't there to care for her."
He lowers his gaze, grinding his teeth to control the emotions welling up in him. That's when you realize that he has lost everyone. His whole life is now dedicated to you and the kingdom. You've become his first priority ever since he was chosen as a mentor by the king.
"But I assure you." Sir Arnold lifts his head, looking into your eyes. "No harm will come to you as long as I breathe."
He has no one but you
"Thank you for everything." You smile softly. "I'm sorry for your loss, Sir Arnold. You're a good man."
His eyes soften as he gives you a nod of gratitude.
3 Years later
You're seventeen years old…
You sit on your bed, admiring your looks in the mirror. You trace your fingers across the scar on your brow which you received during training. Sir Arnold can be rough sometimes, especially when the war is so close.
You tilt your head to the side to get a better look at your stubble. It gives you a more mature look, and your features seem stronger Rising to your feet, you study your build. You have gained a lot of height in three years. You're taller than Richard and Atheris, although they are three years older than you. According to the scouts, the enemy is closer. You don't think they will wait another three years to attack. The war is here, and a great danger awaits Rhivenia.
The alliance with House Everan continues to be powerful. In fact, Lord Daemir and Lady Revna are marching to the capital with their army at this moment. They intend to stay behind the walls and protect the kingdom until the war ends. Your father relies on their weapons and strength.
The situation with Queen Lena remains the same. She hasn't made a move against Rhivenia yet, but it doesn't mean she's not a threat. Atheris says she's waiting for the Southerners to arrive so she can join them. However, Richard seems to believe Queen Lena will never betray you as long as Prince Xavier is your prisoner.
You can never tell which one of them is right. On your way outside, you're greeted by your mentor.
"Hello, Amah." Sir Arnold gives a slight nod. "Today is your day to visit the city."
You nod your head knowingly. The knight smiles faintly, but there's concern in his eyes. Something troubles him.
"What is the matter, Sir Arnold?" you ask as his little smile completely fades.
"You may wish to see your mother before leaving," he says. Before you can ask more questions, he walks down the corridor, leaving you alone with your thoughts. Somewhere in the North…
"Astryn." Erwan walks towards the red-haired woman. "Is the army ready for the next trip?"
"Yes." She nods. "They have rested enough. We can continue marching."
"Good," Erwan says, but his face has a look of uncertainty.
"What is the matter?" Astryn notices it.
"What if we fail?" he asks her. "What if I fail my mother? What if we never get my father's revenge?"
"We've come so far." Astryn puts her hand on his shoulder. "We've planned everything. We gain new allies every year. People believe in you. King Charles will die by your hands."
"What if we can't?" Erwan swallows the lump in his throat. "My only fear is dying at the hands of my father's murderer."
"You will not die!" She looks at him in disbelief. "You're Prince Francis's son, Erwan. You will avenge your innocent mother and father."
Erwan nods his head firmly. "King Charles will die."
In Queen Alvena's room…
"Mother?" You peer in. She sits up straight on the couch quickly, wiping her tears. It's the first time you've seen her crying. You don't remember if she shed a tear for you when you fell from your horse. But your injury wasn't very severe. There was nothing to worry about.
"Yes, my son?" She puts on a smile. A fake one. "Do you need anything?"
"Are you alright?" You give her a curious look.
"Of course." Her smile widens. "Your father is a little bit ill, but he will be alright."
"My father is ill?" You frown. She purses her lips and nods her head, leaning back on the couch. Of course the reason for her tears is your father.
"It's nothing serious," your mother assures you. "He's alright." "He's strong," you speak confidently. "Of course he will be alright."
Your mother nods with a smile. "It's your day to leave the castle. Catalina has prepared a small sack for your trip. Matteo and Sir Arnold will accompany you as usual." The gates slowly open as you ride outside the walls with Sir Arnold and Matteo by your side. They've been your guards for years. You don't question the presence of Matteo anymore. As a loyal and strong warrior, he also accompanies your sisters and half-brother. No doubt, he's one of the few people that your father trusts. The street is full of artists, merchants, and children, but something is missing. The smile on their faces has now been replaced with a frown. The competitive shouting of sellers is the only noise in the marketplace.
You walk into the tavern, which hasn't changed at all in three years. You immediately recognize Jarean, who is serving a table with the usual smile on his face. He has hardly changed, except he's taller now.
He meets your gaze as he turns around. He lifts a brow, looking you up and down.
"Welcome back," he says, looking at Matteo and Sir Arnold. "Please, take a seat."
"Before I serve you, may I ask you for a favor?" Jarean brings his voice to a whisper, sitting with you. You exchange a look with Sir Arnold, who looks alarmed. Noticing the tension at the table, Jarean adds, "I have your ring."
Is that supposed to ease the tension?
"My ring?" You narrow your eyes. "The one that was stolen three years ago?"
"Yes." He smiles and takes the ring out of his pocket to put it on the table. Yes, it's indeed your ring.
"Where did you find it?" Sir Arnold questions him.
"The thief girl," Jarean says. "She's a friend of mine."
"You have such admirable friends," Matteo scoffs. Jarean ignores his comment and turns his gaze on you.
"I saw the ring in her hand and immediately remembered that you were wearing it," he explains. "So I took it from her and started waiting for you to return. Well, I didn't imagine it would take you three years to visit us again, but I didn't lose hope."
"What do you want in return? Gold?" the knight speaks sharply. "Be quick, boy."
"I know you're Prince Amah," Jarean blurts out. Matteo stares at him in pure shock while Sir Arnold looks around to check if anyone heard it.
"She didn't know you were the prince," he adds. "She wanted to draw everyone's attention to you. If she'd known it was true, she would have never stolen from you or put your life in danger."
"What do you want?" you ask Jarean. "I believe there's a reason you're telling me this."
"My mother is ill," he finally says. "We're living a poor life. I can't take care of her."
"So you want gold." Sir Arnold is starting to lose his patience.
"No, I don't want you to give me gold. I'm not a beggar." Jarean's gaze hardens. "I want to earn it."
Then he takes a deep breath and asks, "will you let me be your special drink-maker and work in the castle?" "Of course." You nod. "You can work in the kitchen and serve us."
"Thank you." He smiles. "I will forever be grateful." Meanwhile…
"How much further?" Revna asks, clearly bored. When she gets no answer, she turns to glare at her brother until he gets annoyed and responds.
"Not that far," Daemir replies, eyes never leaving the road. Not the answer she's looking for, but still better than silence. Revna will take it.
"Why do I even go with you?" She gives him a hateful look. "I could stay and protect our house. King Charles doesn't need me."
"I don't want you to leave my sight," the lord answers her. "As you know, I don't trust you."
"The feeling is mutual." She grits her teeth so hard that her head hurts.
They continue riding in silence. Neither of them wants to hear a word from the other. Their relationship has been damaged during the last three years. Even though they weren't close before, they still trusted and protected each other.
Now they are no different from strangers.
Back in Rhivenia…
You stare at the ring on your finger, feeling relieved that you can help Jarean take care of his mother. He will start serving you by tomorrow.
"I'm glad you let him work in the castle," Matteo admits. "He has a talent. More importantly, he has a good heart. He could've received so much gold for the ring, but he didn't sell it. He's an honorable young man."
"I hope he will not cause any trouble," Sir Arnold mumbles under his breath.
"Come on, old man, admit that you like him too." Matteo grins at him. His face slowly falls as the knight gives him his infamous hateful look."So the king is ill."
You snap your head to the side as you hear one of the merchants mentioning your father.
"He is?" The other merchant doesn't hide his surprise. "Such terrible timing. We're at war."
"If he dies, one of the heirs will take the throne." He rubs his forehead nervously. "I hope they are as smart as their father. If not, we all will die."
"Hopefully Prince Richard will be chosen," the man replies. "He will be a much better leader than his father." You're better than Richard. Why can't they see it? Richard doesn't care about the kingdom. All he wants is to be loved by many, and he achieved his wish.
You are the best option. "How do they get the news so fast?" Matteo eyes the merchants.
"Let us leave." Sir Arnold puts his strong hand on your shoulder. "The Everans will arrive at the castle soon."
"My sister says he's in bad condition," Matteo says as you ride back to the castle. "Such a misfortune. War is coming and our king is ill."
"Maybe it was planned," Sir Arnold comments. You and Matteo look at him in confusion, waiting for him to explain. "King Charles was a strong and healthy man. How did he fall ill all of a sudden?"
"Especially when the war is so close…" Matteo's voice trails off. He nods his head slowly, agreeing with the knight. "What do you think?"
"I'm not certain yet." The knight shrugs. "If someone did this on purpose, they might've used a poison to slowly kill him." "He's been visibly losing weight," you say as they nod in agreement. "He was getting weaker every year."
"So, I think all of us agree," Matteo sighs. "There's a traitor in our castle.