Chapter 4
Kingdom 3: "Good heirs are hard to come by"
Under the shade of a large oak tree rooted within the depths of the palace garden, seeking respite from both the sun and his family, the eldest child of King Charmant and Queen Briar Rose attempted to nap inconspicuously. Suddenly, the silence was shattered by single cry. "Davey!"
David groaned and threw an arm over his eyes, awaiting the inevitable discovery. Not one to disappoint, moments later, his five-year-old sister Rebecca came careening towards him, landing knees first onto his stomach.
"Oomf!" he wheezed. But he recovered quickly, silently thankful that she was too small and light to cause much damage. "How many times have I told you not to do that?"
"Sorry, Davey," Rebecca replied, blinking her big blue eyes innocently while making no move to get off him.
"Becca!" another voice called from nearby.
"Oh great," David grumbled. "Did we decide to have a whole family gathering out here and no one remembered to tell me?"
Suddenly, a flash of colour burst into the clearing, and before either David or Rebecca could react, the flash dissolved into a flurry of limbs that landed right on top of their own ungainly pile. Actually—and fortunate for little Rebecca—it landed mostly on top of David.
"See, told you he'd be out here," Rebecca declared triumphantly to ten-year-old Terrence.
After a brief but eternal moment during which he knew only intense pain and chaos, David managed to speak with a forced calmness. "Terry." Terry's blond head turned in the direction of his voice. "If you don't move your foot, and soon, I will never know the joy of fatherhood." There was a pause as he glanced down at the two bodies on top of him, one perched calmly, staring back at him intently, and the other entangled with his own, a seemingly endless supply of knees and elbows jabbing and poking him everywhere. "On second thought, maybe you should just keep it there," he muttered.
Terrence managed to roll off and scramble to his feet, only causing a few additional bruises in the process. "Sorry, David," he said somberly as he pulled Rebecca up as well.
David sighed and pulled himself up off the ground before anyone else could use him to break their fall. Oh yes, there were going to be many bruises tomorrow. "Well, where's the last one?" he asked, glancing around.
"Huh?" Terrence replied. "Oh, Luke. Um, I dunno."
"I saw him," Rebecca supplied helpfully. "He said he was gonna go look for some, um... entertainment!" she finished, proud that she had remembered the rather large word.
"Entertainment?" David groaned. "That can't be good." Well, nothing really ever was when it came to Luke. "Alright, let's go find him before he does too much damage."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
In his fifteen years of experience, Luke had learned of one very important fact: being a prince was not all that it was cracked up to be. In truth, it was a rather boring position to fill. He rarely got to leave the castle, and never on his own, he saw the same people day in and day out, and it just wasn't much fun stealing from your own family. No matter where he stowed anything, someone was bound to stumble onto it sooner or later (how could they not with that many people milling around the castle on a daily basis). It was hardly even stealing at all. More like spontaneous rearranging.
Okay, so he was a kleptomaniac, he admitted it. Actually, he wasn't really ashamed of the fact, even though he knew his parents disapproved of the "habit", as they preferred to call it. But he was a stifled kleptomaniac, living in an environment that deprived him of his primary pleasure.
Secretly, Luke wished he'd never been born a prince. Perhaps, instead, a street urchin growing up on his own, learning to fend for himself. Somewhere where a man's cunning and light hand were appreciated, where his talents could be cultivated. He knew that if given the opportunity, he could make a great thief. Really, what a waste!
And, unlike most second-born sons in similar positions, he did not envy David at all. David, his father's heir, next in line for the throne to rule over the kingdom. Luke knew he wasn't king material—a liar, a charmer, a thief, and cheat—all labels he would have worn proudly, if anyone had ever dared call a king's son that. He wasn't even prince material, not that that made any difference. "Born a prince, die a prince, and do all those boring princely things in the middle," he mumbled to himself as he roamed the castle's never-ending length of hallways.
Entertainment. That's what he had told Rebecca he was looking for, but it appeared that entertainment did not want to be found.
Somehow, during his wanderings, he'd ended up in the kitchen, not usually a place that princes spent much time in, but there wasn't a room within the entire castle that Luke hadn't explored to the fullest extent. Aside from all his other talents, he was also an excellent lock-pick.
"Now what?" he asked himself, looking around the busy room. That was when he noticed a pretty young woman kneading dough, who kept glancing at him furtively. Suddenly, Luke smiled, an idea forming within his head.
Plying on a heavy dose of charm, he walked toward her, greeting, "Why, hello there…" Wait, what was her name? He knew it, he was sure of it. He'd seen her around plenty of times before, even spoken to her on occasion, just as he had with everyone in the castle at one point or another. Mary. Marie. Margarine. No, but close, really close. Still something edible… or drinkable. Martini. Margarita. That was it! "…Marguerite."
Marguerite smiled shyly and stared down at the dough. If she'd noticed the lengthy pause before he'd spoken her name, she hid it well. "Good afternoon, your highness."
"Oh no, please," he said grinning disarmingly, his dimples adding an air of innocence about him, "just call me Luke. 'Your highness' is so formal. It's more to my parents' tastes than my own."
"Oh, I couldn't," Marguerite said, shaking her head and blushing slightly. She glanced around the room quickly, "I mean, it wouldn't be right."
Luke shrugged. "Alright, it's your choice." Not wanting to waste time in putting his plan into motion, he leaned towards her. "So, what exactly is it that's occupying your time right now?"
"What?" she asked, looking up in confusion and finding herself staring right into his emerald-coloured eyes. She quickly turned her attention back to the dough. "Oh," she said, realizing what he was asking, "I'm, um, just preparing the bread… for dinner."
Luke's smile widened, having noticed her reaction. This was going to be easier than he'd thought. "Hmm… well, seeing as that I have nothing else to do, do you think I could help?"
"Help? Make bread?" Marguerite looked around the room, wishing someone would call her over so she wouldn't have to worry about doing something to offend the prince or get her into trouble with any of the more senior servants. Already she could see Esther, the head cook, glancing towards her suspiciously. "I, uh, your highness--"
"Just let me add the spices, or whatever you put into it," Luke interrupted. "Are these it?" he asked as he spotted a nearby spice rack. Not waiting for an answer, he continued, "Which one is garlic?"
"Um, this one," Marguerite answered, pointing out the container. "But, your highness, garlic…?"
"Oh yes," Luke replied fervently. "Don't take this the wrong way, I do love the bread, but I've always thought there was a little something that could be added to really liven it up."
"And garlic would do this?"
"Yes, yes," Luke answered, shaking the ingredient into the dough that Marguerite had been working on. Even with his limited knowledge of cooking, he knew he was putting far too much in, but that of course was the plan. And Marguerite didn't dare reprimand the prince, which too was part of the plan. After all, the goal was entertainment, and this would certainly provide some.
"There," Luke finally declared, putting the near-empty container back into the spice rack. "This will be delicious. I can hardly wait until dinner." Marguerite responded with a weak smile. "Now, you might want to mix it around a--"
"Luke," a stern voice interrupted.
Shit. "Hello David," Luke replied, turning to face his older brother. Of course, he had his little entourage with him; little Rebecca clinging to one hand and Terrence, his second shadow.
David glanced impassively from Luke to Marguerite, noting the expression on the young girl's face. For some reason the image of reinforcements come too late came to his head, but having just arrived at the scene, he had no idea what was wrong. And there was no way the girl would tell him, even if he sent Luke away and asked her in private. Luke just had this hold over people that subsisted even after his presence was removed.
"What are you doing?"
Luke shrugged innocently. "I was just bored, so I offered Marguerite here some help."
"Help with what?"
"Cooking, David," Luke replied, rolling his eyes as if to say 'we're in a kitchen, what do you think'?
"You offered to help her cook?" David repeated slowly.
"Yes, that I did. But now I am finished, and I would like to move on to something else," Luke answered in a bored tone. "Can I go?"
David didn't speak for a moment, trying to read his brother's behaviour. Not that it did any good, considering the fact that all the talents the boy possessed related to lying and cheating. "Feel free," he finally responded.
"I'll see you later, Marguerite," Luke said, just before pushing past Terrence. "Outta the way, twerp," he mumbled, just loud enough for him to hear.
Terrence stuck out his tongue in response, although he did move aside to avoid being knocked down. "Whatever, Lucy."
Watching him leave, David was confronted with a feeling that whatever Luke had done was going to come back to haunt them all before the day's end. His thoughts were interrupted, however, when he felt a tug on his hand. He looked down at Rebecca.
"I have to pee."
Jeez. A castle full of servants, and he was the one who always ended up playing babysitter.
TBC
A/N: Since this is going to be a lot longer than the last two chapters, I decided to split chapter 4 into 2 parts. So for those of you wondering "what about the parents?"… I'll get to them yet. Hey, since there's twice as many kids it should be twice as long, right? It's only fair to them, and while fate can be cruel, I am not. Or is that "since fate can be cruel, so can I"…