Chapter 6

The next morning, Ivan entered her room with two black garment bags slung over his shoulder. He handed one to her and hung the other on the armoire, saying she wouldn't need it until later. She changed into the first outfit he had given her. It was a long colorful dress tied high with an embroidered sash. Bright sequins and jewels were sewn in a decorative pattern around the collar, waist, and hem. She twirled in front of the mirror and watched it sparkle as it followed her moves.

"I take it you like it," he asked with a smile.

"I feel like a princess," she said in awe. "I don't know if I can wear something like this! Isn't it too expensive?"

"It's called a kaftan. Think of it as a reward for your good behavior, as well as a necessity."

She narrowed her eyes in suspicion. "What's the occasion?"

"There is a meeting today of the Council of Ministers. It's where the heads of various government departments and his majesty come together to discuss issues affecting the country. In his majesty's absence, the princes are taking his place. You'll be sitting in as an observer."

She became nervous at the thought of being surrounded by so many influential people, but reassured herself that as an observer, no one would notice her. She took it as a chance to learn not only more about the country but also as an opportunity to learn how each prince would act if he were made king.

"That's not too bad," she smiled confidently. "I can do that easily."

"Of course," he sang in response, almost mockingly.

As he led her to the meeting room, he explained more of how the government of Eber-Nari worked. On paper, it was a constitutional monarchy that was run by a structure similar to a parliament. However, it existed only on paper. The reality was that it was still an autocratic monarchy. No one held a higher authority than the king. He had the final word on every decision and could hire people to his cabinet and other government jobs as he saw fit without needing anyone else's say so. He ultimately decided what laws were passed and how the country was run. If he so wished it, he could also get rid of his cabinet all together and create an entirely new government. It made her realize that if the next king weren't so nice, a dystopian dictatorship wasn't so far off.

"I'm more and more freaked out about the part I play in this each day," she said as the realization made part of her soul leave her body.

She was growing more certain that King Tamir couldn't be serious at all about her choosing a new king. He had even joked that she could become king, or rather queen, if she wanted.

"This is a really elaborate prank and I'm not sure I appreciate it."

"Congratulations," said Ivan with a similarly grim laugh. "You finally understand what it means to serve under his majesty. Now be alert and as always, put on your best face."

The meeting was held in a large, two-story, circular room. On the top story was a balcony, the spectator's gallery where guests and other members of the court could watch the meeting. To further her shock and horror at her current situation, she found it was not where she would be sitting after all. Where she was sitting, and the reason for the lavish dress, was that she would be in the bottom half of the room and would be presented along with the princes as if she were one of them.

Their seats were part of a massive marble podium that was split into two parts, an upper section and a lower section. On the upper section sat the elder princes, Melchiorre, Lambert, and Jun, with King Tamir's seat remaining empty. On the lower section sat the younger princes, Alvah, Chezem, and Nagit. The podium looked out over the room of ministers. The ministers and their secretaries sat in a half-circle formation surrounding the podium in rows upon rows of desks.

Ivan left her to go take his own seat and Alex tried her best to hide her anxiety. As she filed into the room with the other ministers, she spotted one friendly face that made her smile. Nagit was already seated and waved her over. He invited her to take a seat by patting the empty desk next to him.

"Are you nervous, Miss Alex?"

"Just a little," she said in a mixture of sarcasm and hysterics.

"Don't worry about it," said Alvah.

Chezem was sitting to her right, and to the right of him sat Alvah. He leaned forward with both arms on the table as he greeted her with a smile.

"These things are boring but they almost never ask you questions. Just don't fall asleep and you're fine."

"Thanks," she nodded. It made her feel better then to know that her biggest problem would be boredom.

"Do your best to not cause a scene, commoner," said Lambert. He was seated in the row behind her to the far right. It was the seat directly next to the king and although it rightfully should've been occupied by Melchiorre, the latter refused it and sat out of order, in a seat to the king's left.

"You know, I do have a name," she grumbled back.

"Really," said Lambert in anger as he rolled his eyes. "After I just told you not to start trouble, you immediately begin?"

"Maybe if you spoke to me with respect, I wouldn't be so inclined to-" she stopped herself before she could say the words 'punch you in the mouth'. But she still thought it and her audacity showed on her face.

"After I went through all that inconvenience of apologizing, you're as ill-tempered as ever." He folded his arms and turned away from her in disgust.

"You are impossible," she told him through gritted teeth.

"As much fun as this is," interrupted Jun with a fake smile plastered across his face, "need I remind you two that we have an audience?"

Alex turned forward and met numerous pairs of eyes staring back at her. Some of the ministers were already pointing and whispering as they wondered who this new 'heir' was. Which of King Tamir's children was she? Why was a princess allowed to sit among the princes as if she were to inherit the throne? If she were a princess, why had they never seen nor heard of her before? There were rumors of a commoner poised to take the throne but those were just rumors, weren't they? Not even his majesty was that crazy.

Her eyes fell upon Minister Balam. She was surprised to see him before remembering he was in fact a minister and therefore, was only doing his job. It was then that she noticed the only prince who hadn't greeted her, yet sat directly next to her. Chezem sat with his arms crossed and his head slightly leaning forward.

"Prince Chezem," she whispered. "Hello?"

Chezem inhaled as if to yawn and opened his eyes. He gazed in her direction but said nothing. He let out a sigh and stared out over the room but the look in his eyes was vacant.

"He was up all night reading," whispered Nagit, now that Lambert had turned his attention to beginning the meeting.

"I'm just glad he's still alive," she whispered back, much to the confusion of both the princes who had heard her.

With the meeting underway, her fears lessened once she realized that Alvah's warning had been right. No one asked her questions nor even stared in her direction. Her self-consciousness soon disappeared and she diligently took notes in an attempt to understand what was going on.

One by one, each of the ministers stood and gave a general report of the progress they were making on one project or another. They brought forth issues they wanted addressed, or asked for funds to fix a supposed problem. Once they were done speaking, they then had to answer questions from their fellow ministers and sometimes from the princes themselves. It was how they answered these critiques, criticisms, and inquiries that decided on whether they got funds or not. But even in his absence, the king retained his power and so the ministers were politely told that their requests would be considered by his majesty before a final decision could be reached.

It wasn't certain what he was in charge of but Balam seemed to act as an intermediary between the princes and the councilors. He was the one who called upon the ministers, told them when their speaking time was over, and generally seemed to keep order.

"Now, before we move on from this issue, are there any questions?"

Before he could finish dismissing the current subject, he was interrupted by the sound of snoring. All talking stopped and everyone looked around the room to see where it was coming from. Chezem had tried his hardest to stay awake but couldn't help falling asleep after all. Alex tried to discreetly poke him awake, just in time to be caught by Balam.

"Prince Chezem," he yelled.

Chezem jumped awake in his seat, "Yes? What? What is it?"

"Were you sleeping during an important council meeting," he asked angrily.

"I..." he began. "I was just thinking."

He cleared his throat to buy time as a piece of paper slid onto his desk.

"I was just thinking that I... have a question," he said carefully as he scanned it, "about the current tobacco policy."

"Oh," asked Balam in a snide manner. "And what would that be?"

Chezem was a leisurely reader but he could speed read when the time called for it. He read the sheet of paper he had been handed, front and back, in less than a minute and leaned forward as he cleared his throat again.

"I have a series of questions, actually. Firstly, I find it odd that the council has so little to say against the opposition of a 'no smoking policy'. I would think that at least the Minister of Health would present a stronger argument and I chide said minister for such complacency. Secondly, to not increase the tax on tobacco products and the proposal to make up the difference by increasing income tax is excessive. The generated revenue would not only be disproportionate to the loss but also place an unnecessary strain on the working class."

"Your arguments are heard," said Minister Balam, "but what are your questions?"

As the tax increase had been his idea, he was irritated that it was being shot down.

Chezem was the quietest of his brothers but his speaking voice was like a symphony. It had a soft impenetrable confidence and a deep sound that forbade you from interrupting. As this was the first time Alex had heard him speak, she was completely entranced.

"My questions...," he thought aloud. "What are the benefits for the kingdom that we would disregard the ill effects of smoking and not enact a 'no smoking policy'? What is the number of smokers and those who use tobacco products, versus those who don't, assuming that having such a small percentage of tobacco users would make this policy unnecessary? What reasons can the council give that we should not at least have this policy enacted in places frequented by minors and families with minor children? I would like the Minister of Finance to present evidence that makes it reasonable to increase the income tax, which would affect all of the population without choice, instead of the tobacco tax, which would only affect those who choose to buy tobacco and tobacco related products. I believe the lack of debate on this issue is not only an oversight from the Minister of Health, but from several other ministries as well."

The moment he stopped talking, the chamber burst to life with murmurs and whispers. He slid the sheet of paper back to Alex and gave a subtle nod. She returned the gesture with a smile but felt even that small praise was undeserved. Whatever he read on that paper that created his argument was nowhere near what she had written.

"Due to concerns brought forth by Prince Chezem," said Lambert. "The 'Smoking Policy' and subsequent 'Tobacco Tax' shall be revisited next meeting. The Ministry of Health and the Ministry of Finance are hereby urged to revise and strengthen their arguments or the issues shall be dismissed. Is the council in agreement?"

There was chattering but no one rose their hand or voice against it. Once everyone had agreed, they moved on to the next topic. Chezem was careful not to go back to sleep but still had to fight to stay awake.

"And the last topic of discussion," said Minister Balam, "is the royal succession."

The room fell silent and all eyes turned to Alex and the princes. She looked to both Chezem and Nagit, wondering if she was expected to answer. They both looked back as if to ask her the same question. Before she could speak, Lambert answered with a calm contempt.

"The matter of succession has been waived by his majesty and therefore, is not a subject eligible for discussion."

His words made her breathe a sigh of relief. That was until Balam spoke again.

"Forgive me, your highness," he said with a fake apologetic smile. "There are rumors of the king issuing an unofficial decree. I only ask that they be addressed in this forum for the benefit of the council."

"And what does the succession matter to the council?"

To everyone's shock, the prince who answered Balam was not Lambert, but Melchiorre. He had been quiet thus far during the meeting. Even now, he seemed not to care for it as he sat with his head in his hands surrounded by paper planes he had made out of the documents that had been passed to him.

"No matter who takes the throne, the council will be run the same, won't it? Honestly, I can barely breathe from how bored I am. Let's hurry up and get this over with. I'd like to keep my date with our pretty foreign guest," he tossed his head and winked at Alex.

She blushed and quickly turned to face the opposite direction to pretend she hadn't seen it. Lambert pushed his microphone away and covered it with his hand.

"How can you possibly talk that way?! Can't you take anything seriously?"

Melchiorre simply shrugged his shoulders and stuck out his tongue.

"This will all be redone for his majesty when he returns. There's no sense in behaving, much less holding these meetings anyway."

"I'm warning you, do not dig yourself deeper than you already have." It was clear from Lambert's reddening face that he wanted to say more to his elder brother but decorum made him bite his tongue.

"As I said before," Lambert addressed the crowd more heatedly than before and spoke with absolution, "the matter of succession is not for discussion! We do not lower ourselves to petty rumors! If the council has no more legitimate concerns, then today's meeting is to be adjourned!"

Balam had no choice to concede and the meeting ended more uneasily than it had started. The room emptied and Alex followed the princes out through a different exit than the one the ministers and their secretaries used. As the princes went their separate ways, she stayed behind to wait for Ivan to find her. If he didn't, she had no way to get back to her room.

She suddenly felt a tap on her shoulders and turned to find herself face to face with Prince Chezem. He was standing quite close to her and was staring intently with a neutral expression that hid his curiosity. Prince of personal space, he was not.

"Yes-"

"I want to borrow your notes," he said before she could even finish asking him what he wanted.

"Sure," she answered while handing them over. "They're not really all that detailed though."

"I know. I can make my own from them so it doesn't matter."

"Oh, okay..." She was quickly learning that Chezem was also blunt.

"Now that all that's over, we can finally get to having fun!"

Melchiorre's voice rang out from down the hall and they both turned and saw him walking towards them. Lambert appeared on his heels and was still chastising him.

"You're the eldest son and 'fun' is all you care about!?"

"Well why would I work when I have my little brother to do it for me," answered Melchiorre.

"I wouldn't have to if you took your position seriously!"

"Don't blame me," he said in a lowered tone. "As if you wouldn't do it if you didn't want to. You're the only one craving father's praise so badly."

"How dare you," Lambert said in outrage.

Alex stood uneasily before them and wondered if she should say something to break them up. Chezem let his eyes dart back and forth with their words as he eagerly watched his combating brothers.

"If I let the birthright fall to you, this country would be in ruin," snapped Lambert.

"If I could hand it over to you, you'd already have it," Melchiorre responded.

"Either would be a disgrace from where I'm standing," said a female voice.

They stopped their fight in its tracks. The woman who had silenced them was an imposing figure. She too wore a kaftan but it was far different than what Alex wore. The dress surpassed her own in its lavish display of wealth while being austere. Both the gown and its overcoat were a deep wine color. It was hemmed on all edges with heavy embroidery of golden thread and jewels. Her eyes were a pale blue and akin to ice in more than color as she stared coldly at the princes. Her blonde hair was pulled tight into a crown braid and interwoven with a jeweled crown of amethysts and pearls. With a serene composure and air of absolute authority, she wore the crown as if she had been with born with it. In that way, Lambert's resemblance to his mother went beyond physical appearances.

Alex glanced aside and found that Chezem had disappeared. He had stayed only to watch his brother's fight. As soon as trouble appeared, he saw no reason to go down with them and made himself scarce.

"Who would think either of you worthy of the throne from this childish behavior?"

She continued to berate the remaining princes. Lambert looked crushed by her words but said nothing as he stewed in resentment. Melchiorre turned towards her and shrugged it off with a smile that dared her to speak words strong enough to move him.

"That's a rather harsh greeting, your highness. We haven't met in a while so how about a hello or some other pleasantry first?"

She narrowed her eyes but retained her calm composure.

"I'm not here for you," she shot back at him. "I have business to discuss with Lambert. If you two aren't done, then I shall wait and talk with that young woman there. After all, I'm sure we have much to discuss. Come along."

She smiled and stretched out her hand. Alex went from intrigued to immediately suspicious. Her smile was somehow familiar and made her uneasy. It was not one she trusted. She couldn't think a reason of why her highness wanted to talk to her, other than the royal bracelet and the succession of course. She wanted to refuse but was in no position to do so. Even as a princess, an honorary one at least, her station would not allow it. She smiled back and nodded her head as she did as was told.

Melchiorre cut off her path by suddenly shoving Lambert towards her outstretched hand.

"He's all yours," he sang. "Take him. And I'll be off with Lady Alex!"

He put his arms around Alex without giving her time to object and hastily dragged her away. He led her back to his room and didn't breathe a sigh of relief until they were inside. She watched him thinking that maybe what had happened in the meeting and in the hallway had affected him deeper than he let on. The hostility between them wasn't her imagination.

"Prince Melchiorre, who was that woman?"

"Hmm? Oh, her?" With a simple toss of his hair, he was returned to his usual carefree effervescence.

"I suppose you can think of her as a nosy aunt of mine. You'll do yourself a favor by staying strangers with her. But you and I should get better acquainted." He waved her towards the couch, "have a seat and make yourself comfortable."

He took a seat next to her, or tried to, but she held out both arms to push him away. She hadn't appreciated being grabbed either.

"Arms distance please," was her brusque order.

He grabbed her hands and held them in his as he moved closer despite her warning.

"Really? You'd push me away even though we've been much closer before?"

She didn't drop her guard but she had to admit he was right. But even then, those times had still been unwelcome advances.

"Thank you again for saving me in the garden but I'm not just going to-"

"You're welcome," he replied as he brought his face closer to hers. "If you want, you could show me your appreciation by giving me a taste of your pretty lips?"

Even though he held her hands, she figured she could still escape by head-butting him and was ready to do so when he let go of her and let out a soft laugh.

"It's just a joke. I thought it would loosen you up a bit. You look so angry."

"I don't like those kinds of jokes!"

"Then you want my sincere courtship?"

He laughed again as she recoiled away from him. He straightened up in his seat, crossed one leg over the other, and propped up his elbow on the back of the couch.

"I'll hope you at least indulge me for a chat. I do want to know how you're getting on in the palace."

"I'm getting along fine, thank you for asking," she answered meekly. The sudden innocence of his question and his desire for such small talk caught her off guard. He softened his eyes to hide his smile from suspicion.

"Come on, you don't have to be so formal with me. I'm not his majesty and certainly I'm not Ivan. You can tell me the truth."

"Honestly? It hasn't been easy at all. At first I thought Ivan's training was bad but it's nothing. Now it's all the political stuff that has me scared."

"That sounds about right," he nodded. "Ivan is a tough teacher but the classroom is nothing compared to the real world, isn't it?"

"Is that the reason why you don't want to become king, Prince Melchiorre?"

"Don't," he answered suddenly and sharply. The change in his voice and its unexpected seriousness was definitely not something that could be ignored. Even his face darkened with the mood.

"Don't be a naughty girl," he said with a smile as he tried to play it off. "No formalities needed, remember? You don't need to call me by my title. Calling me Melchiorre is just fine."

"Are you sure?" She asked with more caution toward his uneven temperament than showing a lack of manners.

"I'm certain. Go on, say my name. It's easy!"

"Fine. Is that why you don't want to become king, Melchiorre?"

"Not at all. I don't want to become king because it's a nuisance."

"A nuisance," she repeated with an annoyed look on her face. "You don't want to be king because it's a minor inconvenience?"

"What do you think of Lambert," he asked suddenly.

"He's uh..." She went through her head trying to find a word to describe him that wasn't an expletive or an insult. "He certainly is... something."

Melchiorre chuckled and provided an answer for her.

"He's a bit a cocky, is what you mean? He may seem like a difficult person but that's because you haven't gotten to know him yet. The truth is that he's a very hard worker. He tirelessly dedicates himself to the crown."

He looked away as he went one by one and he listed off his brothers and the great things he saw in them.

"After him is Alvah. He can't read the atmosphere but he has a quick memory and he's popular for his cheerfulness. Jun is quite the opposite; he's good at debating and he knows domestic policy inside and out but you wouldn't think him to be the least bit personable. You've witnessed Chezem's speaking voice for yourself and his ability to read between the lines is almost supernatural. Nagit may be young but he's developing great instincts. He takes his time to thoroughly think things over."

He turned back to her with a smile. For once it wasn't fake, forced, or condescending. It was genuine but pained.

"My brothers are all infinitely more talented than I am. Any of them would be more suitable to be king. And yet because I'm the oldest, the birthright automatically goes to me, the feckless son who cares for nothing. Do you think that's fair?"

"It isn't," she answered honestly, "but I'm sure you have some skill or talent?"

"That's irrelevant," he said in an annoyed voice. "The fact remains that I'm not suited for the throne and I don't want it. Listen, why don't we forget about that and just enjoy our time together?"

He leaned in close and she dodged his kiss by quickly rising from her seat.

"In that case, I must be leaving immediately."

"Wait a moment," he said as he grabbed her by the wrist. "How can you just dump me when we've started getting to know each other?"

She answered him frankly and without an ounce of the sympathy he had been expecting, "I have to choose a person to be the next king. You said it yourself that you're not interested so there's no reason for me to be here."

"You'll leave me with this heavy heart," he said with tearful dramatics, "without even the slightest consolation of a warm and tender touch?"

She paused and stared at him. He did have a valid point in what he had said before. It wasn't fair that he would become king just because he was born first when it was his younger brothers who worked so hard. They would never be given a shot at the throne unless he abdicated. Maybe he spent all his time frolicking just to give them a chance. Because of his behavior, everyone had already assumed his majesty would pass the crown to Lambert when the time came. The more she thought about it, she realized he didn't deserve the dislike she had for him. He had helped her and his only offense against her was unwanted touching.

Still, he was a shiftless cad and wore a constant witless smile.

"Yep," she answered as she snatched her hand away and headed for the door.

She walked out into the hallway without a look back. She only had a vague idea of how to get back to her room. It would be easier than finding her way back from the main palace since Melchiorre's apartment was in the same building as Nagit's. But even the most familiar surroundings looked different in the day time and it had been late in the evening when she last visited. She made it as far as the palace garden on her own and was relieved to run into Ivan there. He had been on his way to retrieve her after he had been told that she had been led away. He didn't look too worried about it but he still gave her a careful look over.

"There you are," he said. "I was told you were with Master Melchiorre. Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. It was interesting but also a bit awkward."

"Yes, he is a touch peculiar," he agreed with a thoughtful look. "Now let's hurry back. You need to get changed before we can continue today as scheduled."

She followed him while bombarding him with whispered questions.

"Ivan, do you have any idea why he dislikes the crown so much? He seems to have a keen eye when it comes to the other princes. I don't think he's choosing to abdicate because he has low self-esteem."

"I'm afraid I don't," he answered. "He was in his early teenage years when I arrived at the palace. He was the same then as he is now. Although..."

He stopped and put his finger to his chin. She watched him and hung on his every word.

"Although what," she asked impatiently.

"He was very argumentative with his majesty for quite a while. It was just youthful rebellion, of course. He eventually grew out of it, and he and his majesty are quite close now."

"Maybe he's just being rebellious in other ways then."

She thought that maybe Melchiorre was the type of person who didn't grow out of such a phase completely. It sounded more than right when she thought of his mood swings from flirtatious to brooding. Either way, as long as she didn't have to visit him again, the case was closed. He was one candidate she could write off easily. If not by his own concession, than surely his 'peculiarities' were enough reason to not give him the bracelet.

Back in her room, she took the second garment bag and changed into the outfit. It was a simple polo shirt and form-fitting pants.

"Are these leggings," she asked in disbelief. "I didn't think something this modern and fashionable was allowed at the palace."

"They're riding breeches," Ivan answered as he carefully hung the kaftan back in its bag. "This afternoon's lesson is horseback riding."

He handed her a pair of gloves when she stepped out of the changing room. He didn't quite mean to undress her with his eyes when he saw her. They were just riding clothes after all and he had seen her wear far more scandalous attire. Even so, plain or not, the clothes hugged her tightly and the knee high boots weren't helping to tame his imagination.

"What?" She asked carefully as she now knew to be wary of his vacant smile and hungry eyes.

"I see this is going to be a recurring problem," he mused playfully. He cleared his throat then spoke aloud, "you'll be taking your lessons with Master Nagit. He insisted on accompanying you. He's a skilled rider so he'll be a good example for you to learn from."

"Wait, you're not going to ride?"

"No, I'll just be there to guide you. I only know the basics so even if I were, I'm afraid I wouldn't be much help."

She wanted to ask why she had to learn horseback riding. Cars were a thing in this country and she had seen no one on a horse. As she thought of how to ask the question, there was a knock on the door. She opened it and was once again met by Chezem. He kept his impassive expression but stared her up and down in much the same way Ivan had. Like an expert appraiser, he was unperturbed, if not outright unimpressed.

"Prince Chezem," she greeted him with an awkward smile. "How can I help you?"

"I wanted to thank you for letting me borrow your notes."

"You're welcome. It was no problem."

"I am obligated to return the gesture. So I'm letting you borrow these."

She looked down at the pair of books he held against his chest. She answered him with a 'thank you' and held out her arms to take them.

"They're books on the history of Eber-Nari. They're from my personal library."

"I'll be sure to take good care of them."

He still held on to them tightly and his reluctance to hand them over was clear. She had tried to sound reassuring but her choice of words seemed to be the opening he had been waiting for.

"If you're to do so, then don't eat or drink while reading them," he said while staring her down. "Don't crumple the pages, don't damage the spines, don't fold the corners, don't write or mark in them, and don't leave them open and unattended."

She hesitated after hearing all of his instructions and wondered if it was really okay for her to take them after all.

"I'll see they're treated properly, Master Chezem," said Ivan, finally intervening.

Chezem handed the books to him and watched as he shelved them away on the writing desk. He stood ready to point out even the smallest mistakes or the slightest mishandling. When he saw none, he gave a satisfactory nod.

"Okay... Thanks again for the books," said Alex, trying to inject a cheery tone into the situation.

There was an awkward silence that followed as Chezem stared at her. He was just as unsure of what to make of her as she was of him. He finally bid her goodbye with, "please read and return them in a timely manner."

She let out a sigh as soon as he was gone.

"Wow. Prince Chezem really likes books," she said as she and Ivan walked to the palace stables.

"Very much so," said Ivan. "He's quite reserved and prefers them to people. As you can see, he's very mindful of their fragility. That he loaned you some is quite a feat. I must say, I am impressed." His smile turned somber as he added, "I thought he would never let another hand touch his library after the incident with Master Alvah."

"What incident," said asked fearfully, "what happened with Prince Alvah?"

"They were studying together and Master Alvah accidentally knocked over a cup of water onto one of Master Chezem's books. It was a disaster," he said as if he were recalling the horrors of war. "The ink bled through the pages, the binding came undone, entire chapters were stuck together... It was completely ruined. There was no saving it."

"What did Prince Chezem do?"

"He accepted Master Alvah's apology but he didn't talk for a whole two months afterwards. Neither I nor his majesty could persuade him. Whether he couldn't or just simply refused, we don't know. He just wouldn't."

They discussed Chezem and his love of books until they arrived at the stables. Then the topic changed to horses. Ivan's lecture gave her a general overview of basic horsemanship. He talked about the differences between breeds, told her how to properly handle the horse, and explained the equipment she'd be using and how. When it came time for her to ride, he instructed her every step of the way.

"Sit up straight, hold the reins tightly. Don't be nervous."

"Sure..."

She tried to follow his orders but having never been a horse before, fear was a natural instinct. She took deep breaths but couldn't help feeling uneasy every time the horse moved. She had been fine around the animal earlier as long as her feet were on the ground. Now that she was sitting on it with her feet in stirrups, holding tight to the reins was all she could do to keep her composure.

"Now kick the horse's stomach when you want to give directions," he said as he walked alongside her.

She answered indignantly, "absolutely not!"

She thought he must be crazy. She was not going to anger this huge monster animal that could possibly end her life by kicking it, especially not in a sensitive place like the stomach.

"That's insane! I'm not going to kick it!"

He was aghast at her objection for a moment then asked sarcastically, "then how do you propose to make it move forward?"

"I don't know but I'm not kicking it! Can't you use words or something? Like just telling it to 'go forward'- OH MY GOD PLEASE STOP!"

Whether the horse understood her or was simply bored of standing around, it did move forward. It walked at a lazy gait but the fact that it was moving at all was enough to terrify her.

"Make it stop! Make it stop!"

He hurried and grabbed onto the side of the rein and made a clicking sound with his tongue. The horse didn't stop but turned its head toward him. It followed and let itself be led around in a small circle.

"There, there," he told her with an oddly placed smile at her distress. "You have very little to be afraid of. Just try to calm down and get used to the feel of riding."

"Ms. Alex!" Nagit called her name as he rode into the paddock and pulled his horse up to hers.

"Are you having fun? The basics are kind of boring but after a while, it gets better! If you keep practicing, you'll be able to go faster and jump obstacles!"

"Oh great," she laughed. "Just what I needed, there's more to sitting on top of a terrifying beast."

"Huh? Are you scared of horses," he asked. He had assumed that the look on her face was just nervousness and thought she would overcome it through practice. But now he was realizing that it wasn't her usual reluctance.

"It's not a fear of horses, it's a fear of heights," she corrected him.

"She's just being irrational," chided Ivan. "I apologize, Master Nagit, but I don't think Miss Alex will be ready to proceed past the basics for quite some time."

"Ivan, this isn't good." Nagit frowned and gave him a serious look. "If she's uncomfortable riding, than forcing her won't help. Miss Alex, I want you to get down right now!"

"Yes, Master Nagit." Ivan nodded to him then turned to her. "Do you remember how to dismount as I told you?"

She had just taken one foot out of the stirrups when Nagit inhaled sharply and furiously rubbed his eyes.

"Master Nagit," called Ivan. "What's wrong?"

Suddenly, her startled horse shook its head free of Ivan's grasp and reared up on its hind legs. Alex didn't have time to scream as her chest tightened in fear. She held on tight to the reigns and pulled her body in close to keep from falling off. Ivan grabbed onto Nagit's bridle and pulled his horse out of the way just in time before hers slammed down on its front hooves. Then it bolted from the paddock and ran for the open field as fast as it could go.

"Please stop," she cried as she kept her fearful position. "Bad horse! Bad! Stop, please!"

She pulled on the reins, lightly at first then slowly began pulling harder. She didn't want it to rear up again, worrying more that it might fall on top of her than anything else. She knew that as long as she stayed on, she could ride it out until it got tired of running or tired of hearing her crying.

"Alexandra!" Ivan's voice rang out as he came up behind her on Nagit's horse. "Stay calm and hold on!"

She kept pulling on the reins, which seemed to be working gradually. The agitated horse slowed its pace but didn't stop. It was enough and Ivan brought his horse carefully alongside hers. The horse recognized its stable mate and didn't veer off or come to a sudden stop.

He grabbed hold of its reign and held tight.

"Don't worry. I've got you."

He pulled it into a trot before getting it to stop altogether. She immediately dismounted and moved a safe distance away from the horse before crumbling into a heap on the ground. She was relieved but every part of her was still too shaken to stand.

Ivan dismounted and walked around both horses before running over to see if she was okay. He crouched down to put his arms around her and pulled her to her feet. She clung to his jacket with her head against his chest.

"It's over now," he said as he patted her back. "You're alright."

"Look at me," he pushed her away gently and cupped her face in his hands. "Are you hurt anywhere? Injured?"

She shook her head no. She was in a detached calm at that moment and was unable to talk. Her heart beat out of control. He pulled her back into a hug and sighed in relief.

The sound of beating hooves signaled the approach of Prince Nagit rushing over on a different horse. There were others approaching as well; stable hands to retrieve the horses, the palace doctor, and curious on-lookers who had heard the commotion. He cleared his throat and reluctantly let her go to avoid their scandalized eyes.

Nagit almost tripped over his stirrups as he jumped off his horse. He ran towards her and tackled her in a tight hug that knocked the remaining breath out of her. Under the layers of clothes and child-like attitude, he was still a teenage boy. Nothing made that clearer than the strength of his panicked affection.

"Alex! Are you okay," he screamed. "Are you hurt? How do you feel? Sit down! Ivan, bring water!"

"I'm okay," she answered, hugging him back. His tearful eyes were getting to her and she began to well up as well. "I'm alright, Prince Nagit. It's fine."

"It's not fine," he shouted back. His voice began to break but stayed strong with his worried anger. "Do you know what could've happened to you!? You could've died!"

"I'm sorry," she replied sheepishly.

After the doctor arrived and gave her a once over, Nagit pulled Ivan aside. They stood apart from the crowd and merely looked on.

"I sincerely apologize, Master Nagit. It was my carelessness that put her in danger."

"Ivan," Nagit cut him off as he glared back at the stables. "A light hit my eyes right before the horse ran off. Someone made it go wild on purpose."

A moment of uneasy silence settled in. Nagit wasn't unfamiliar with underhanded plots to seize power. As the youngest prince, it seemed that he was a favorite kidnapping target for disgruntled heirs, would-be usurpers to the throne, and just plain thugs who wanted ransom money. Because of it, he was the only prince actively not allowed outside the palace unless accompanied by a small platoon of armed guards. But there was still much that he didn't know about the politics surrounding throne.

Ivan struggled with what to say. He wanted to preserve what little innocence Nagit had left. Even though he had picked up on the fact that someone had purposely blinded him and jumped to the right conclusion, Ivan saw no need to tell him any more than what he had assumed.

"Someone is after Miss Alex because of the bracelet, right?"

"Yes," he answered reluctantly.

"Keep a better eye on her," he ordered. "There's no telling what they'll do next time!"

"Yes, Master Nagit. I will."

The evening was just beginning to arrive when Alex returned to her room. She kicked off her boots and flopped down onto her bed, wrapping her arms around the pillows. Ivan went about his usual routine without a word. She wanted to ask him if it was alright for her to just skip dinner and take a nap. She was absentmindedly already falling asleep when she felt the bed sink from the weight of a body sitting beside her.

"I'm sorry," she began. "I'll get up."

"Don't," he said as he put on a hand on her back.

A small, confused murmur escaped her lips. His voice sounded much different then she had heard before. It was rougher in way. It was deeper and less refined with some accent that she didn't recognize.

"Please, rest as long as you need to." He stroked her back slowly and she relaxed under his touch.

"Half and half today," she asked.

"Half and half?"

"Half of it was good and half of it was bad. The meeting went good but the horse riding went bad."

He stopped for a moment and he drew in a sharp breath as he remembered what had happened at the meeting. Minister Balam had almost announced the king's plan to the entire palace. If it hadn't been for Lambert and Melchiorre's fight, he would've succeeded. That would've surely made her as much of a target as any of the princes, if not more so since she held the bracelet.

She was nearly asleep but jolted awake when she felt the brush of his lips behind her ear.

"Then tomorrow," he whispered, "how about a whole good day?"

"You mean like no lessons," she said dreamily. It was probably too good to be true though.

"No lessons," he repeated. "I'll have one of the princes take you sight-seeing at your leisure."

"Do you not want to show me around?"

She stopped to wonder at herself then buried her face in a pillow to hide her blush. She had to get to know the princes in order to do her job. If she spent all her time with Ivan, then she wouldn't be any closer to handing over the succession. She knew this but still questioned herself as to why she would much prefer to spend time with him.

"I would love to," he said, returning his voice to the practiced charm she was used to hearing. "But I have other business that I must attend to."