As soon as some semblance of a long business vacation was possible, he intended to visit their island with much research and knowledge at his disposal. He hoped to invite its ruling class to sign with the International Union of Peace, in a time of lasting peace under his reign. Not as some underhanded, concealed way of manipulating them to do his bidding, but more as a way of further unifying the eastern region—most of which were already in the I.U.P. at present. Within the union, a war or invasion with the purpose of colonization or terrorism was not permitted under any circumstances. If an enemy attacked any one nation, their allies would join hands and eliminate the threat. He was working to actualize more policies, contractual terms, and acts in the union to better the maintenance of peace, but it proved quite difficult with nobility clashes, family disputes, and opposing intermixed eastern island cultures at every peacemaking communal meeting.
Lord Urane was the most famous and popular of the rulers in the island’s history, being knowledgeable, generous, and quite the prodigy since young. While women swooned over him, he was almost too disinterested and choosy, believing romance to be a waste of energy. Only one managed to capture his heart; the fort’s future staff heard confirmation from his advisory chief that he had only ever been with two women, physically and emotionally. In the early years of his reign, he sought the hand of a woman, his first love, who was not keen to marry him because of her dream pursuits, but he was so dogged and good to her and her admiring family that she finally gave in one year later. They married on the promise that she was allowed to be with someone else in an open marriage, an acceptable pledge among nobility, if she ever fell in love. She did not love him, but she did grow fond of him over the years—enough to praise him whenever possible, like an adored pet or child.
In the throes of blissful passion and infatuation, he saw intense prophecies and visions of events happening to people on his land that were so vivid and accurate as to pull in many clientele with extravagant rolles[2] to spend. With increasing wealth, success, and popularity, tourists enmasse from neighboring countries arrived in a surge to buy his coveted services, however tough and infrequent they were. The island was secluded and crowded with a sparse town population and abundant traditions and rules strictly adhered to by everyone. The one rule that aggrieved paying tourists most was the restriction of how many individuals were allowed to come on the island in one day: a punitive amount of 60. In droves of 100 waiting tourists each day, with increasing numbers as time went on, other more free-willed islands were cramped with occupied inn and hotel rooms. On every boat and bridge, 60 visitors packed the interiors, eager to get their business over with after all the waiting.
A voice speaking to the air broke his concentration. “Please forgive the interruption. I know you don’t like to be disrupted from your reading,” Landon said, “but your pie and water will grow stale. Is the story that engrossing?”
“Compelling, yes. I can’t tear away.” He swallowed a forkful of pie before adding, “I almost wish I was there.”
“Who is it about this time?”
“Lord Urane, the third prophet. He was the most famous and talented of the first dozen rulers. None has been as regaled as highly and often as him.”
“I haven’t heard of him. I don’t remember much about history, though, so all I know about their country are tidbits that Sherynn told me. Why is he so famous?”
Caspian set down the fork and glanced at him. “His magic, I suppose. So far I learned that his visions were highly specific and accurate, enough that tourists came in by the hundreds every day for the course of a year and a half, seeking out his services.” He sipped his tea and continued, “I am sure there is more to learn about why he became so famous and successful. There must be a few specific events he was known for. I haven’t read far yet. I still have 330 pages to go.”
“Then I’ll leave you to it.”
The next time Caspian became aware of his surroundings was when he tried to take another sip of his tea, only for air to meet his lips.
“A refill, Prince Caspian?” Landon asked, a finger on his buzzer.
When he nodded, Landon pressed the buzzer and requested a refill pitcher of the tea, and Thomson returned three minutes later. He refilled Caspian’s glass, then rolled the finished cart away. On his way, he handed a bottle to Landon.
At the door, he turned and asked, “Is there anything else, Your Highness?”
Caspian glanced at the closet door.
Thomson said, “I will iron press your outfit for your evening engagement closer to 4 o’clock, Your Highness. Which outfit would you prefer?”
“You may choose.”
Thomson bowed and left.
Caspian washed up in the bathroom. When he reemerged to Landon downing his drink, he said, “I will go to the study.”
Landon opened the door for him. Caspian strode down the familiar hall the opposite way he had come, more towards the middle of the palace interior, and to the west grand staircase. The walls and stick-thin window frames on the left were stark white, with aquamarine doors on the right side, and shiny glass display cases with various family gemstones, flowers, and artwork interspersed between each door and room.
As he passed, one doorway was open, revealing a roomful of servants hard at work, and servants passing in the hallway stopped to bow to him. Some of the trainees saw the others bowing, so they hastened to do the same, ignorant of Caspian’s position without the cloak. He scanned them, only recognizing a few.
“We’ve had to employ more servants recently,” Landon said, noticing Caspian’s line of sight. “Many of the west side seniors resigned because of stress from the workload and too few helping hands. Some of the men were aging as well.”
Caspian wished that he could reduce the amount of work to maintain the upkeep, or at least that he could give them more appreciation for their work and loyalty. The staff had decent pay, beautiful lodging and residences, medical insurance, unlimited supplies and tools, and satisfying meals. Once in a while, he or the queen would throw a lavish buffet or banquet for the staff, who were allowed to invite as many outside friends and family as they wished, or bonus pay on the holidays and special occasions. Still, he wondered if they were enough for the amount of day and night labor. Landon had assured him numerous times that they were always passing their thanks to him.
Caspian stopped at the last door of the hall by the entrance to the west staircase lobby and glanced at him.
“Are you curious about the first prince?” Landon asked, smirking, to which Caspian nodded. “His Royal Highness is the same as usual. Tries to assist Her Majesty and accompanies her as much as he can, but you know him; has his own daily activities, projects, he calls them. He stays far away from the war zones.”
First Prince Maene, Caspian’s older brother, was skilled in hand to hand combat and technical strength, but he lacked magical aptitude. Whether or not he had it, it was his opinion, but widely understood, that mingling with the military or commoners was beneath him. He preferred to throw himself into political matters, pushing governing choices and acts, and creating proposals based on his opinions—rather than be one to elect on another person’s ideas or plans. Often he clashed with their mother and Caspian, never to be on the same wavelength as one so opinionated and stubborn as him.
Before they could enter the room, a rapid clicking of heels descended on them, putting Caspian on the alert immediately. He knew those footsteps; he had heard them in the palace corridors for many years. Turning, he allowed long arms and a lithe body to crash against him.
“Caenan, you’re finally here!” exclaimed a familiar woman. She had long pale blond hair coiffed tightly behind her head, sharp teal blue eyes, and small, austere features that had never changed in the years he had known her. She wore black stockings, a knee-length black skirt, white heels, and an aquamarine-colored blazer over a white shirt. A small sapphire necklace adorned her neck. Formal working attire. She was grinning and brimming with energy. “It’s been, what, three weeks since you came to the palace?”
“Hello, Yune,” he said. “I had no knowledge of your visit. Are you visiting my mother?”
She pulled back to look at him. “Of course. I heard you were coming as well. I’m so glad you got out of that hellhole intact. Keep it up or I’ll seriously follow you to the grave.”
Yune was Caspian’s royal teacher and tutor from when he was the age of five to 15, until he had left to train in the military. In contrast to her sometimes desperate need for emotional connection and affection, she was wise and studious, being one of the top rated private teachers of high paying noble families in the Kold district. Her work results landed her an official position as royal teacher, or tutor, to the royal family’s youngsters over 10 years ago. Second Prince Hallen had also been her student as she tutored them in the same room during their youth.
She, with the help of her secretary, had taught him on many subjects such as mathematics, biology, literature, foreign language, and social and political history. Political and kingdom history were more centralized and specialized as a course in the military, compared to her brief, downplayed lessons. Worship studies, which most of high nobility knew of, and magic education were the two fields of academia that she could not pass on to him. Members of the royal family had personal crystallizing magic knights that educated and trained them if they had the crystallizing talent. For most, there was much self study and individual practice involved in it.
When she backed off, a whiff of her airy perfume flowing in the air, her secretary bowed in greeting. With straight jet black hair flowing down to just his nape and chin, hazel eyes, brown skin, a forest green vest with clover shaped buttons, and suit and coat, he looked like a dashing Chariotian. He was a quiet, serious, and dedicated man, said by those who thought of him to be an unimpressionable workaholic who did not say much and only made eye contact when he had to. He followed Yune everywhere she went, both to assist in her tutoring work and protect her, and consolidated most of the assignments and tests for her almost daily.
She grabbed him by the shoulder, smiling. “Nikolai, isn’t it such a relief that we live to fight yet another majestic day and our beloved Caenan is unharmed?”
Nikolai nodded once, somber as ever. “Yes. We are glad you are well, Your Highness.”
“You’re going to have awful days ahead dealing with the aftermath of this recent abysmal disaster. I can only imagine the unimaginable horrors you face in battle. I wish you’d resign, but I know such words fall on deaf ears,” she said, moving from Nikolai to pinch Caspian on the arm. “Only the Lord knows how much Esme and Landon worry over you. Right, Landon?”
Landon punctuated the statement with several nods and a deep, heavy sigh. She cackled. “You must be so exasperated with all of us reminding you every time we see you, but that’s how important it is. Landon always talks about you. You are our best hope for a brighter future when you become king. I know it.”
“Yes,” Caspian said. “I have the gift to crystallize. I will use it.”
She glanced at his book. “You’ve a book. Which one is it?”
He showed her.
“Prophet’s Land, the Tenth.” She smiled. “I believe that one focuses on Lord Urane. He is a famous one. Gosh, there is so much to tell about their country, despite being so small...It’s finally his turn, is it? I’ll leave you alone now, but we have to catch up and sit down for a meal, when you aren’t so busy.”
“I am always busy,” he said. “Are you going into the study as well?”
“Yes, after you.” As they walked inside and stopped by the first door, she said, “I just came to grab something. Enjoy your book, little Caenan. Let’s discuss it next time.”
Caspian nodded and strode to the furthest private reading room at the end of the study’s hallway, which was his preferred one. In the study, he would be less likely to give into distractions, or for visitors who knew him to drop by and bother him about one thing or another. By moving to the study, his presence at the palace was also further broadcasted, though the staff always knew of his visits days beforehand, unless he dropped by privately.
Each reading room on the west side second floor had the same layout of four filled bookshelves, a high window, and a desk and chair. The only one that was different was the room Caspian used, which was the largest one. On the opposite wall, there was a single large window overlooking an icy courtyard connected by an outdoor corridor to several different rooms. Caspian, at 6 feet, was barely tall enough to see out of the bottom of the window. Six bookshelves sat against three walls, and two desks and chairs sat in the center of the room. When he entered, he proceeded to pull the furthest chair to the window and sat, while Landon locked the door and pulled it shut as he remained outside. He left Caspian alone inside the study, taking the time to read his own book or newspaper.
At a quarter to three in the afternoon, Caspian requested his tea from earlier. Later, Thomson knocked and spoke through the door, “Your Highness, I have the tea.”
Once Thomson brought the pitcher and glass of tea to the desk, set on a coaster, and left, Caspian returned to the book. In two hours he had only gone through 99 pages, many of which were littered with sticky notes and annotations. The beginning was always the backstory of the main subject, and it dragged on for quite a while. Not that he minded.
Comments (0)
See all