It's been a long time. I've had exams. And suffered from a horrific bout of laziness. But all is well – it is summertime and I have no school for about ten weeks and I remembered about this silly little story I was writing and thought I might as well continue. I think it's a little bit shorter than the previous chapters, but anyways...
Prince Hartian of Narnia
I am invited to speak to my cousin in his throne room, which is ever so slightly grander, more imposing and far more extravagant than the modest room he normally sits in to sort out affairs of state. I wonder if he wants to either impress or scare me. Whatever it is he's attempting to achieve, it doesn't work.
I see Doctor Cornelius standing beside him; what have they been plotting together?
Of course, the use of the throne room means etiquette must be respected to a greater degree than usual, so I bow, hiding the suspicion in my face from them.
"Prince Hartian,"
"Your majesty," I reply, "you wished to speak to me."
"Indeed I did, Hartian," he pauses, and glances at Doctor Cornelius, perhaps he is seeking reassurances, I know, better than most, that our supposedly great king is still plagued with insecurities, "Tell me, are you content with your life at the present?"
"With all due respect, your majesty, what kind of a question is that?" I am astonished. Why should Caspian care if I am happy with my life?
"We wondered if you would like to travel to the Lone Islands with one of our delegations,"
I can't believe it. Two things run through my mind simultaneously. The first is that they're finally getting rid of me and the second is that they're giving me a chance to prove myself. I don't really mind which incentive powered them, I see the opportunity to get out of the oppressive castle.
"I would be happy to do so, your majesty," I reply, all politeness.
"I am glad. We must discuss this further, at another time," he tells me, casting me to one side yet again, "perhaps over luncheon tomorrow," he suggests.
"It would be a pleasure." I reply, and we both know that that was a lie.
King Caspian X of Narnia
I dismiss my cousin and he backs out of the throne room courteously, as he has been trained. I turn to Doctor Cornelius
"How was that?" I ask, worried
"My king, you have held the throne of Narnia for near fifteen years, and you still turn to ask for approval from those unworthy to give it to you."
"You are far from unworthy," I exclaim, "and I want to be sure I'm doing the right thing," I reply, weakly, knowing there to be some truth in his words that are both kind and cutting.
"I believe that you are doing the right thing, yet I cannot speak without opinion clouding my judgment of truth."
"I have always valued your opinion, my dear doctor," I say and it is true. A true king does not rule the land by himself . A true king listens carefully to his advisors and courtiers and juggles the needs and wants of the people with the needs of the country and only then can he make his decision. There is far more to being king than having your way. I consider the throne to be a responsibility rather than a gift. To have the blood of kings run through your veins is a curse rather than a blessing.
Prince Hartian of Narnia
"May I inquire as to the reason for this decision?" I politely phrase a question that I have had burning inside me ever since the King informed me that I would be leaving. We both sit on a long table, he sits at the head at I at the left hand side. The right is reserved for his queen, although she is still too tired to attend today.
"You may inquire," the king smiles, "I may or may not chose to give you an answer."
I attempt to control the scowl that flashes across my face, but to no avail.
"I thought... well, Doctor Cornelius, thought that you were getting weary of spending your life in classroom. I agreed with him – it is no life for a young man of royal blood,"
I am not entirely sure of how I ought to reply, so I smile and take a sip of the watered down wine that I had been served.
"How is Rilian?" I ask, as I put my goblet down, and immediately wonder whether I ought to have added a title onto his name. I am never entirely sure quite what place etiquette has to play in meeting like these.
"Rilian is well, he appears to be a strong baby," Caspian smiles, "or so the queen informs me – I don't pretend to know much of these matters,"
I nod, smile and take another bite of my food. The king follows me
"Have you received any more information on the Lone Islands yet?" I change the subject yet again, hoping to find one that both of us feel comfortable with.
"We believe that the situation in the Lone Islands involves a group of rebellious Telmarine nobles and their followers who have become increasingly discontented with the restoration of Old Narnia in all parts of my lands. We hear that they are engaging in slaughter of talking animals and other creatures on a massive scale. Naturally, I must be seen to act swiftly, else the talking beasts here in Narnia may start to say that I secretly support the rebellion and begin their own uprising. As you might imagine, it all becomes ridiculously political,"
I cannot help but feel a little thrill as I realise that the King, my cousin, has chosen to confide in me. I instantly chastise myself for being taken in and fooled by his charisma.
"And what might my part be in this?" I ask
"We do not expect you personally to have to do anything about it, Hartian – you are still young. Hopefully you will be there to observe and perhaps in a few years time you may carry out diplomacy yourself."
"I look forward to that," I say. Do I look forward to it? I'm not sure if I have much interest in diplomacy. It's all old men talking and I care little for either.
"I have arranged for a meeting with Lord Rendon, the captain of the ship that you will sail on, in two hours,"
Lord Rendon, Captain of the Eastern Sun
I have seen Prince Hartian before, from a distance, at banquets and feasts, but I have not yet held a conversation with him, nor have I been close enough to observe Miraz's son from close quarters. He does not strike a particularly imposing figure. I note his fair complexion immediately as one that will redden and burn when exposed to the elements, unlike his cousin, the king, who turns a healthy tan. However, he is of a decent height and a reasonably strong build. I judge that, if permitted, he would fare quite well physically on board.
"Good afternoon, Lord Rendon," the prince greets me formally, with a slight smile on his face, and I give a shallow bow. He responds with a nod of acknowledgment, carefully done. I realise that this is a boy who has been raised for life at court, and there is no way of telling how he will fare mentally with life at sea.
I had harboured doubts about accepting this task from the moment the king first spoke to me about it. The responsibility involved with taking care of the former crown prince is an immense task – and the thought of what kind of punishment might fall on me if I were to fail in my duties frightens me, and I am not a man easily frightened. In addition to this, the prince is fourteen, nearly fifteen. Boys of that age are always difficult, contrary and argumentative for argument's sake. When these concerns come to mind I always try to remind myself that he is a prince, that he is of the same blood as our beloved king – and of the murderous tyrant that left all Narnia trembling in his presence.
I was but sixteen when Miraz became king – old enough to have opinions but far too young to have any attention paid to me when I chose to express them. My father, on the other hand, loved the sound of his own voice – especially when that voice spoke in favour of fair Caspian. It was only to be expected that one dark night, my father disappeared for good. I do not want to blame Hartian – but I know that there is a deep residual grudge that I cannot seem to shake off.
"Good afternoon, your highness," I reply, finally.
"I understand that I am to be a passenger on your next voyage to the Lone Isles – I hope that I am not too much of an inconvenience," He seems to be a reasonably charming young man, although perhaps not instantly likable, as his cousin was.
"Not at all, it is an honour to have you on board,"
Prince Hartian of Narnia
Lord Rendon and I continue to exchange pleasantries, and I do my best to maintain the facade of an eager young prince, and what wouldn't I give to be able to fall into that role? Years of practise have left me capable of imitating my cousin's easy style and manners, but inside I know that I am not, and can never be, that golden prince. Every day I wonder whether I am slowly turning into the man that they all fear I might become. Lord Rendon is, perhaps, a little better than most. He acts like an honest man, the sort that are able to thrive in my cousin's court, but would be crushed anywhere else.
"We shall set sail in three days time," Lord Rendon tells me. Three more days. Three more days to live through and then I can escape the ever watchful eye of my cousin and his loyal and stifling courtiers. Three days to wait for that is three days too many.
Lucie, daughter of Lord Eldon
We hear that Prince Hartian is going to depart for the Lone Islands in three days time, with a diplomatic envoy. It's not an official trip, and so there will be no large ceremony to bid the prince goodbye, but word spreads around court fast. There is something about him that's caught my attention. I don't know why and I couldn't describe why for the life of me. The funny thing is, no one really notices him. He's always just been there. Maybe standing in the corner, sulking, or sitting by the king and queen with a fake smile on his face, he's never the centre of attention. He's a puzzle, a riddle. And now he's going, it's going to be almost impossible for me to solve it. Although I'm not entirely sure if I want to.
I've been trying to cut down on the depressive 'everyone hates me, nobody likes me' silliness from dear Hartian, but he doesn't seem to want to shut up. I wish he'd just go away.
Anyway, a review or two wouldn't go amiss...
