Princely Duties

Sirius adjusted the golden crown on his head before letting out a heavy sigh. His parents were cross with him, as usual—this time, it was because he had released a pig inside the castle—and had ordered that he remain indoors, under close watch. In the meantime, he was to help the locals with their various problems.

Sirius found it boring to solve the problems of others, so he amused himself by thinking up the most ridiculous solutions he possibly could. When an old woman complained that wolves were attacking her sheep, Sirius suggested that she keep her livestock in her home. A young man wondered what might be done about the kingdom's rat problem, and Sirius immediately drafted an order to buy five hundred cats. The last person he saw was an irate nobleman who was apparently in a feud with his neighbor.

"He lets his goat wander onto my property! I tried to round it up and send it back and it headbutted me!" The man's face was red with anger.

Sirius advised him to calm down before dispensing his wisdom:

"Your recourse is simple. You must headbutt the goat back, good sir."

The man harrumphed and stormed away. Sirius rolled his eyes and slumped back in his throne. Being a prince was tiring. However, as there was no one else waiting to see him, perhaps he could close his eyes for a little while…

"Excuse me?"

Sirius' eyes flew open. The voice belonged to a man who looked to be around his age. He was dressed in tattered clothes and his face showed a good deal more wrinkles than Sirius', but what struck the prince most—and made him sit up straight in his throne—were the man's kind amber eyes.

"Hello." Sirius coughed. "I mean, greetings. How can I be of service today?"

The man bowed, then launched into his query. "You're the ruler here, correct? Do you rent out dungeon cells? I'm asking for...er, a friend."

Sirius chuckled at the man's odd manner. "I'm the son of King Orion and Queen Walburga and therefore not technically a ruler...yet. As to your inquiry about the dungeon cells, I confess that I am curious as to why your friend might wish to rent one. Does he seek to lock up a sworn enemy? Or perhaps he wants to ensure that his bride will be faithful when he goes off to war?"

"Nothing like that," the man murmured, his face red. "It's—he is in need of a place to stay for the night."

"Well, why didn't you say so in the first place? There are first-rate lodgings at the inn near town square, or so I hear."

The man fixed his gaze on the ground and mumbled something that Sirius couldn't hear.

"I'm sorry, I didn't catch that."

Louder, the man said, "I haven't got any money—I mean, my friend hasn't got any money."

He looked so embarrassed that Sirius immediately felt sorry for him.

"Never mind that," he said kindly. "There are rooms aplenty here at the castle. I'd be willing to let you stay here, provided you give me your name."

"It's Remus," the amber-eyed man said. He was still looking at the floor.

"Well, Remus, what do you say? I'll send for a servant and they can show you to your room."

Remus nodded, and the hint of a smile appeared on his face. It made him look younger and more handsome—a far cry from the shabby figure he had been when he first walked into the throne room. There would be time for Sirius to get to know him better, but for now, the man was in dire need of a bath and some decent clothes.

"Kreacher!" he called. His wizened elf appeared at his side moments later and was briefed on their new guest.

As Remus followed Kreacher from the room, Sirius smiled. He was looking forward to learning more about this handsome visitor.

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