Chapter 12: False Hope
Captain Hostetter of the Southern Isles Royal Navy was always a man who followed orders. He worked more years under kings' command than most of his comrades. Here, being able to personally serve his queen and prince was an honor only to be topped by the king himself. He, along with the rest of his crew were delighted to hear the news that Queen Charlotte chose their vessel as transport to and from Rheland's festival. Their mission was a simple one, though It didn't stop King Frederick from boarding the vessel and giving the captain a brief but stern warning while Charlotte got herself settled into her state room.
"Constant vigilance. Be mindful of your surroundings. Protect the Queen at all costs."
Weeks of peaceful days left the ominous message forgotten. While the ship was docked at Jarven, Rheland's largest northern port city, the shipmen still had plenty of opportunities to enjoy their time away from home. Each man was given a small stipend for some of the daily activities held in the city, so long as their duties were performed in a timely manner. Morale was high, even on colder, rainy days when there were only chores to be done.
Everything changed three days prior on the last Saturday morning they were to spend in Rheland. Hostetter remembered sitting in his state room with his first officer going over the schedule of departure when one of his deckhands burst into his quarters, red faced and gasping for breath.
"Alvanian soldiers in the city!"
Those haunted cries changed everything. He and his officers rushed above deck to see chaos in the village. Members of the city's garrison wielding their king's crest were shot down by crossbow as they rushed to defend the innocent. Shipmen on leave were scrambling to return to their vessels. Hollering from the crow's nest redirected attention to the seas where ships were entering the harbor bearing the Alvanian flag. Everything was happening so fast before his eyes. Between people yelling on deck, citizens rushing about on dry land, it was hard to focus and consider options, even though there were ultimately only two choices. They could either remain docked and resort to become eyewitnesses to whatever the Alvanians had in store. Or they could set sail.
But how could they possibly leave? How could he justify abandoning his queen?
His first officer was now shouting near his ear and gesturing to the fellow ships in the harbor. The flagship vessel that brought King Alastor of Malengrad was being boarded. The few deckhands that tried to fight back were instantly taken down. The Obresh kingdom's vessel was next, though seeing the fate of their comrades in the next ship over, decided to value their lives over their vessel and submitted to the armed assailants. Hostetter watched with horror. Their ship was further down on the docks, and the soldiers had yet to reach his vessel. But each passing second sealed their fate, and it was becoming clear that these invaders had no intentions of letting anyone leave port.
He never considered himself a coward. Never did he flee from a scene like a dog with a tail between its legs. Never did he let an enemy board his vessel. His ship was one of the finest in the King's fleet. And the Southern Isles had the most powerful navy in all the realm. If the Alvanians were starting a fight, then he intended to fight back.
The instant his entire crew were accounted for, the gangplank was ripped away from the dock and anchor hoisted. He made his choice, though the implications tore at his heart. Nothing disturbed him more than to set sail and leave his queen and prince behind. But what could possibly be done? She was in Oskberg, miles inland. He could only pray that Prince Hans would be there to protect her where he could not. For the first time in his career, he disobeyed orders from his king, and the rallying speech he gave his men still haunted him.
"Set sail!" He bellowed to his men, "Get us out of here. For now, we must act swiftly to ensure our own survival, and by doing so, the survival of our royal masters. Set your course straight for those incoming ships! Our allies are under attack, and we will not stand by while they fall to ruin. Doing this, we must leave our Queen and Prince behind, but we shall return for them with the power of the fleet by our side. We represent the strength and fury of our mighty king. We are the grand navy of the Southern Isles."
His ship took far more damage than he anticipated, but it still came out of the battle faring far better than the Alvanian frigate. While the shipmen worked around the clock to make needed repairs, he retreated into his cabin. Blasting their way through the blockade was on the first of his many trials.
As he sank down in his chair and buried his face into his hands, he stressed over the days long journey to return home. While the three days travel to Rheland felt like a breeze, he knew the return trip would feel like an eternity. He prayed for decent weather and steady winds to fuel his damaged sails.
The instant the ship's bell rang signaling land in sight on that third afternoon, Hostetter's heart began to race as he fretted over how he would address King Frederick with not only the terrible news of their escape, but the additional truth that Queen Charlotte and Prince Hans were still in harm's way.
Queen Charlotte rose from the armchair situated before the large wooden desk in King Wilhelm—now Viktor Beker's study and began to move aimlessly about the grand room. It seemed she was waiting an eternity for Beker to show his face. Why the guard brought her in so early was beyond her.
Even though the entirety of her past days were spent in her room, the little bit of stimulating activity wasn't enough to keep her energetic. She found yesterday in particular to be exhausting. Not physically since most hours were spent lounging either on her bed or the chaise. But mentally…
She felt as if she was drowning in stress. After that one afternoon, she had not been allowed to see Agatha. Without knowing what was going on downstairs, she grew more concerned for her oldest and dearest friend. Thaw wasn't even scratching the surface on her own predicament, and the plight of so many others in the castle.
Naturally, what weighed heavily was Hans, and how he was getting along with Anna. That one moment when Anna's castle disappearance went noticed gave her so much relief. Knowing they got away brought so much hope that things would be set right. Granted, it could take time, but she would be willing to wait.
In the meantime, she could do whatever she could to learn more about Beker's plans, and if lucky enough, find a way to send a message to her husband. Some way, somehow, the right moment would present itself.
Today was different, though. Instead of waking on her own, her slumber was rudely interrupted by her stationed guard banging loudly on her door and ordering her up and dressed within ten minutes. Charlotte's first reaction was that Beker planned to return to her chamber. Instead, as she waited for the inevitable meeting, the guard burst in—three minutes too early—and roughly yanked her by the arm out of her bedroom. The last place she imagined being dumped was the former king's study.
She passed by an end table and moved to sit at the padded window ledge. As her fingers brushed the red velvet curtains aside, the guard at the door barked at her suddenly, making her jump.
"Away from the window!"
Her hand pressed over her chest at the rapid beating of her heart, and she turned around to glare at the man. "Why? What harm is it to glance through a pane of glass?" She snapped. "I doubt your lord and master could care less. He can't even bother to come to his own meeting on time." When all she received was another stern look, she pushed the curtain aside once more and returned her attention to the window. The study offered a vastly different view than her bedchamber window, and after looking at the same garden for over a month—and an indefinite time still to come—seeing a new area of the grounds was indeed welcoming.
Charlotte could hear the door open behind her but didn't bother to turn around. If it were Beker, he could wait. After all, she was for him for quite a while.
"See something you like?"
She reluctantly tore her gaze away from the serene gardens below. Viktor Beker was casually perched at the corner of the desk with his arms loosely crossed in front of him. There was a light, curious expression on his face, much like the one he flashed when they first met. That was one uncomfortable encounter that she didn't want to think about.
"Flowers." She replied shortly and looked outside once more.
"If I recall, there's an entire flower garden outside your bedchamber."
"These are different."
Beker raised his brow. "Shall I have a servant bring clippings to your room?"
She shrugged, "that's not necessary." The room remained quiet for several minutes, and if it weren't for the clearing of his throat, she would have forgotten he was in the room with her. "Why did you bring me here?"
"For a chat."
"You're not doing very much of it."
"Perhaps I'm waiting for your undivided attention." He replied. "So… shall I come to the window? Or will you join me here?"
Her back instantly stiffened at the question. "You're letting me choose?" Her eyes glanced to him briefly. "Does this one come with consequences as well?"
He couldn't resist chuckling, "No, not at all. Just decide where you're most comfortable."
"I am most comfortable back in my chambers. Alone. But that wasn't an option." She sighed and reluctantly stood up to return to her former seat by the desk.
"Splendid!" Beker grinned and swung his body to lean against the front of the desk to face her.
"Why did you summon me?" She asked again, "What is this about?"
The amusement slowly drained from his face. "A more serious nature, I'm afraid. If there's one thing I know about castles, it's how quickly news spreads. Surely you've heard about a recent prison break of ours?"
Charlotte did her best to show her purely innocent face. "You mean everyone's shouting and commotion the other day?"
He nodded, "yes, that. I want to make sure you're aware that instances like that will not happen again. Therefore, I would dissuade you from any future escape attempts." He said calmly, "I'd hate for you—or anyone else—to be needlessly hurt."
She wasn't convinced of his sincerity and raised her brow, "Do I look like someone who could manage an escape?"
"I didn't expect our escapee to leave the nest, so at the moment I suspect everyone."
Charlotte folded her hands in her lap as a sour feeling started to form in her stomach, "Who left?"
He leaned forward slightly, bracing himself on his knees, "wouldn't you like to know?"
She shrugged. "You shared this much."
"Perhaps that was all you were summoned for."
"I doubt that. You kept me waiting for far longer than this conversation would have been worth."
He chuckled once. "Princess Anna of Arendelle."
Charlotte widened her eyes to maintain her façade, "What? How?"
"And here I was hoping you could tell me."
Her head shook slowly, "I'm afraid I don't understand—"
"As the Princess of Vallacia, you and Princess Anna were neighbors. I'd wager you knew her better than most-"
"On the contrary," She replied, "the princess and I have only met on a handful of occasions. Even here at the festival, we've barely had time to catch up. To be honest, aside from this festival, I hadn't seen her since my wedding. We were at the King's ball together, though we barely spoke." Her eyes narrowed, "we might have had the chance had you not ruined things."
He didn't seem fazed by her accusation, "be that as it may, I'm certain you had a hand in her flight."
"And what is giving you that impression?"
His eyebrow raised suspiciously, "Your lack of genuine surprise, for one."
"Well," She began carefully, "with your men screaming up and down the halls, it wasn't hard to put the pieces together that someone went missing."
"Would you care to speculate how the Arendellian princess managed to flee?"
"Not particularly." Charlotte bristled, "and I'm sure you're going to tell me anyway."
Beker's head tilted as he stared her down, watching for a crack in her mask. "She snuck out the window."
"And you discovered this how? A bedsheet over the balcony?"
He couldn't help but laugh. "What an amusing thought! Oh, if only she chose such a crude method, we would have caught up to her long ago." He shook his head, "No. Aside from a trail of down soldiers, I'm afraid your young friend took a far more subtle approach. But it's no matter. I have men all over this kingdom. She'll be apprehended before too long."
Her jaw tensed. "Well then," she said sharply and took some slower, deeper breaths, "if that's all, may I return to my chamber?"
"Oh no. I haven't even gotten to the best part."
His choice of words made her stomach turn again. "What then?"
He smirked briefly, hopped off the desk and walked around behind it. There was a bit of a messy pile in the far corner. Books, parchment, but what he was more interested in was a deep red sash with an insignia pin attached to one side. He held it up and turned it about in his hands.
"Recognize this?"
Charlotte sighed and reluctantly turned her head to see what he was going on about. Her heart sank the instant her eyes landed on the sash. Naturally, she recognized it. There was an identical one in her room that she wore to the ball. Except while hers was still in pristine condition, this one had some dirt marks and wrinkles along the edges. If this was now in Beker's possession, that meant he, or at least his men, have been through Hans' belongings.
"Suddenly, you're not very cheeky." He commented, "That's alright. You know, my men searched everywhere for that princess until it became obvious that she was no longer on the castle grounds. So, we did some more digging." He slowly walked back around the desk with the sash still clutched in his hands. "It turns out Princess Anna isn't the tidiest royal. Her room was a mess. Clothes, belongings strewn everywhere. And her bad habits weren't contained. Could you imagine our surprise that the chamber beside hers was in a similar state of disarray?" He stopped near the fireplace and stared at the flames within.
Charlotte could feel her heart racing as her hands fidgeted with the pleats in her skirt.
"There were bits of dirt and twigs on the floor by the balcony door, and similar marks in Princess Anna's chamber. It's clear we didn't have one escape, but two." He moved about the room again stopped before her, dumping the sash right into her lap. "Finding this, well… it certainly made this situation even more intriguing. This morning, while you were patiently waiting in here for me, my assistant and I did a little search through your chambers—"
"—What?!" She stared at him, shocked. "How dare you!"
He shook his head and moved back behind the desk with his hands clasped behind his back, "Oh no, Milady, how dare you. Do you know what we found in your room? More dirt marks in your rug—"
"—How can you be sure your men didn't track that mess in?"
His brow raised. "My soldiers don't make a habit of entering through high up windows." He cleared his throat and leaned forward, bracing both palms down on the wood surface. "Let's cut through the nonsense, shall we?" He reached through the pile and pulled out a narrower piece of parchment, then slid it across the desk towards her. "That's a page of your stationary. And I'm sure you don't need me to point out that the royal insignia matches the pin on that sash."
"…no."
"SO. Who else are we missing?" He watched and sighed as she kept her gaze down on her lap. "Who came with you to Rheland?"
Charlotte took a deep breath and maintained her silence. There wasn't much hope at this point, but even a few minutes of silence could spare Hans some extra time.
"Well." He cleared his throat and straightened up. "It seems you no longer have a voice. No matter. There are others in this castle who can tell me what I want to know." His brow furrowed, "Queen Helene, perhaps-"
The mentioning of the queen made Charlotte glance up at him. The satisfied look on his face ran a shiver down her spine.
"—or even the young Princess Josephine." He remarked casually, "Surely she would know—" he waved a hand towards the guard at the door.
"-NO!" Without hesitation, Charlotte immediately jumped to her feet and instantly regretted it. The quick movement spurred on a wave of nausea, and she had to clutch the back of her chair to keep herself upright.
"Ah, so it seems I've gotten a rise from you. Good…."
He kept talking, but she stopped listening. She knew his behavior was sickening, and he purposefully threw Helene and Josephine's names out to rattle her. What she didn't expect was such a sudden, violent reaction from within. She took a few deep breaths, hoping it would let the sickness subside.
Where was this coming from? She wondered. It couldn't have been anything she ate—not today at least. Beker was putting her through an interrogation before she could even get a proper breakfast. Was the stress really getting to her? Only a few days had passed, and most of them were dull. If this predicament would affect her so strongly now, there'd be no doubt she'd be in for far worse as time moved forwards.
As another wave of nausea came and went, one thing was certain. She couldn't stay in King Wilhelm's study any longer. It was only a matter of time before she ended up retching. And disgracing herself by ruining the king's desk and study was not on her agenda.
Though if she were far less a proper lady, she'd have no qualms releasing the contents of her stomach all over Beker himself.
"—may I be excused?" She managed to get out after another deep breath.
"You're avoiding my question, Your Majesty." He said dryly.
What question? She didn't recall him asking anything. Though, she wasn't paying attention, either.
"I'm unwell."
"Yes, I can see that." He replied, walking around the desk to stand before her. His hand came up and the back met her forehead. A gentle press, nothing more. "You're rather warm."
His hand was cool against her skin and at first it felt good. But because of who he was, she immediately recoiled backwards. "Don't… don't touch me."
He frowned and crossed his arms over his chest. "Answer my questions and you may return to your room. Since you're suddenly too ill to withstand a simple conversation, I think you'll find this a reasonable bargain. Who came with you?"
His eyes bore hard into hers and she soon had to look away. There wasn't much point to holding her tongue anymore. "…Prince Hans."
"See? That wasn't so hard." He shrugged and waved towards the man beside the door. "Take the queen back to her chambers. Be Though. She seems a bit frail."
"…Yes, Sir."
"Do make haste, I fear she'll only turn you into a chamber pot if timing isn't on your side." Beker cleared his throat, "And have that maid of hers tend to her care. If she's contagious, let her own servant risk dealing with her."
Letting go of the chair, Charlotte eyed Beker carefully before turning around for the door. The guard immediately opened it and gave her plenty of room, a far cry from her treatment this morning.
"Ah... just a minute though." Beker's voice sounded behind her just as she was about to step through the doorway, and she turned back to him. "One more question." His eyes narrowed, "Where were they headed?"
She shook her head slightly and matched his gaze. She only uttered one word to him before escaping into the hallway.
"Home."
Prince Astor leaned back in his seat and stretched out his arms. He had cooped himself up in the castle library as a place of refuge from most of his brothers. As the Southern Isles ambassador, and more recently, the family appointed therapist, much of the prince's time was eaten up—not by his work, but by too many of his siblings as they constantly sought him out to complain or vent about every little inconvenience. Frequent grievances were of the eldest brother and his overbearing no-nonsense-attitude. The library was the one place where the neediest of Westergaards never dared venture. He was pleased to be able to spread out his parchment and books, and work in peace.
As time went on, even with all the window curtains wide open, it was getting hard to see. The sun was setting, therefore that was his cue to stop for the day. Dinner would be ready within the hour, and he did promise chess matches with Viktor and Georg afterwards.
After piling his books neatly on the table, he gathered up his paperwork and left the library to retreat to his small study. Along the way, he passed by the south parlor. From the hall, he could hear Dirk and Derrick's voices inside.
"…You'll never believe this, Dirk was saying, "I swear, I'm not making this up."
"Yeah right…."
That was Lars' bored tone. Astor was able to subtly peek inside without being seen. Lars was lounging on a sofa looking up at his two younger twin brothers as they moved about the room.
"it's true. I was there! Derrick, too!"
"Yeah well…."Derrick shrugged nonchalantly, "My attention was a bit divided."
"Let me guess." Lars sighed and picked some fluff from his tunic. "Blonde or brunette?"
"What makes you think I can only settle for one at a time?"
"…you've only got one mouth. A large one, but y'know…"
Derrick smirked and wiggled his fingers, "but I have two hands…"
O-okay, that's enough of that drivel. Astor shuddered. Listening in on his brothers' activities among the houses of ill repute were enough to make him ill. And he was so looking forward to the dinner menu tonight.
"Will you knock it off and let me tell you what I saw?" Dirk's impatient voice faded out as Astor rounded the corner and retreated down another corridor. His study was just up ahead, and right as his hand wrapped around the round door handle, there was the sound of footfalls behind him.
"Your Royal Highness!"
With a quick sigh, Astor turned around to see one of the castle guards approaching at a brisk pace with a naval officer hot on his heels. His eyes shifted from one man to the other. The soldier, he recognized, but not the officer. He wore a captain's uniform, but rather than appear clean and composed, the man looked a bit of a wreck. The uniform was dirty and wrinkled. Exhaustion showed across the man's features.
"Yes, Lieutenant?" Astor asked. "What can I do for you?"
"Ambassador, Sir." The guard bowed respectfully. "This man seeks an immediate audience with the King."
"Ah." Astor nodded slowly, "Unfortunately, my brother doesn't wish to be disturbed—" the man's shoulders instantly slumped, and he quickly tried to reassure him, "—but perhaps I can be of assistance." After signaling for the soldier to leave, he stepped aside to allow the captain into his study.
"I… appreciate your time, Ambassador." The man said with a sigh, "however, I'm not quite sure what you can do."
"Well, you're lucky to find me. I'm one of the only people in the castle who the king can tolerate right now. You've got a better chance of earning an audience with him with me by your side."
The captain slowly sank into a wooden chair by the desk. His hands nervously ran along the arm rests as he took in deep breaths. "I'm not entirely sure how to proceed."
"Start simple." Astor suggested and sat in his own chair behind the desk and folded his hands on the wood surface.
"Ny name is Leon Hostetter. I'm the Captain of the HMS Elskere—"
"—The Elskere?" Astor interrupted. The names sounded familiar. Almost instantly it hit him, and his eyes widened. "Oh-ooh…" He said softly. In any other circumstance, he would excitedly welcome the man home and inquire about the journey away from the kingdom. However, the clues before him all suggest the opposite. The dirty disheveled uniform, the nerves. That didn't even include the obvious giveaways.
"You're a few days early." Astor remarked softly. He leaned forward in his seat. Any curiosity vanished his face, "and I'm going to assume based on your somber expression and the lack of excitement surging through the castle, that you returned alone."
Hostetter shook his head, "that is what I need to speak to His Majesty about. You see…" He swallowed hard and began to retell the disturbing events that unfolded days prior.
Astor immediately jumped to his feet with widened eyes and a horrified expression across his features. "…well shit…" He mumbled, unable to find proper words. Glancing back to the captain, he sighed, "Apologies for my vulgarity."
"—No, Your Highness," Hostetter waved a dismissive hand, "I'm afraid that's all I've been saying, too. To be honest, the last few days have felt like such a daze that I haven't even cared if my own men swore in my presence."
The prince shook his head slowly. "I can only imagine the stress. How many men were lost?"
"Seven," Hostetter replied grimly. "Five from weapons fire. Two when the mast came down. But we were lucky. Sailors from Malengrad… they were slaughtered on the deck of their own vessel for showing resistance."
Astor nodded. "When you can, give me the list of those lost. I'll help you notify their families." He cleared his throat after a few minutes of silence, "What a fool I was…. To think that something like this wouldn't happen…."
"…Sir?"
"You have no idea how many conversations I had with The King, trying to convince him otherwise." Astor sighed, "He's certainly proved me wrong."
And I will never hear the end of this.
"None of us expected it, either." Hostetter said, "The attack came out of nowhere. There was sunshine, merriment. And then instant chaos."
Astor began pacing about. "There's no telling what's going on there now. I shudder to think what's happened in Oskberg."
Hostetter's hands fidgeted along the brim of his cap sitting on his lap, "I fear for the Queen—and the Prince. We don't know what the Alvanians have in store." He shook his head, "I've never felt more ashamed of something out of my control. It was a mistake to cast off; to abandon my queen; to defy my orders."
Astor came around and placed a comforting hand on the man's slumped shoulder. "On the contrary. You did the right thing. Your brave actions provided us valuable information. That is intel we never would have been privy to until far too late."
"It's already too late." Hostetter replied grimly. "And I fled. A coward's move."
"You saved the lives of your men." Astor countered. "Remember that, and don't let The King's response tell you otherwise. I can assure you; he will not take to the news as calmly as I have."
Hostetter gulped, "What shall he be told?"
"The truth." Astor shrugged, "That his wife isn't coming home."
The pair reluctantly left the study and started down the hall towards the monarch's chamber.
"How… how can you be so composed?" Hostetter asked as they moved through the castle.
"Believe me, I'm just as shattered as you are." Astor said with a sigh, "But mixing your stress with my brother's anger will already end badly. Someone in the room must keep a level head. There will be plenty of time for my own breakdown when I'm alone."
The Captain groaned, "it seems—" he stopped short as they rounded the corner. The double doors to the dining room were open, and a crowd of servants were huddled at the entrance. He exchanged glances with the ambassador. "…what's this?"
"Good question." Astor's eyes immediately narrowed as he approached the crowd. "Don't you all have duties to perform? Or is there entertainment tonight that I wasn't told about?"
His voice wasn't harsh, but it got his point across. Footmen and maids dispersed and soon the men were able to get close enough to the entrance to hear what got everyone's attention in the first place.
"I can't believe the captain had the nerve to port such a piece of scrap in the king's dock!"
Astor recognized that voice immediately as Dirk's. And judging by the slurs and inflections used, he was clearly still as intoxicated as he was earlier.
"Well, it's got to dock somewhere."
Alexei? Astor stepped into the doorway and watched the scene unfold. Most of his family were huddled around the far end of the dining table. They didn't notice nor care that he was listening in.
"It's better off staying out in the middle of the sea," Dirk drawled and poured himself another glass of wine, "It's a disgrace to the navy."
"It's true," Derrick chimed in, "He showed it to me. The frame has more patches than some peasant's old worn-through breeches. Or…Hey, Tomas. What's that cheese you're so fond of? The one with the holes?"
"…Swiss?"
"Yeah! That's a good description for it."
Hostetter's face turned red with anger and he tried to shove his way into the dining room. Astor's arms quickly spayed out and dragged him back before his outburst could be noticed. "You are not about to engage my brothers!" Astor hissed and pushed the captain up against the corridor wall.
"They insulted my crew and my ship!"
"I can assure you, Dirk and Derrick dishonor anything and everything that crosses their path. Don't take it personally." He put a finger to his lips and stepped back in to observe the rest of the conversation.
"It's clear the Elskere will never sail again."
"Wait. The Elskere?" Alexei's voice interrupted. "That's the ship?"
"Yeah." Dirk said. "So?"
Alexei jumped out of his seat and yanked the goblet from his brother's hand. "The Elskere is the ship that Charlotte and Hans were on!"
"Thank god!" Tomas exhaled, "That means she's back. Freddy can stop being such a brooding ass—"
"Where is she?" Georg asked. "We have to welcome her! Maybe wrap her with a bow and surprise him."
Dirk shrugged casually. "I didn't say she came back."
Viktor roughly shoved Dirk into the nearest chair. "What?! Why didn't you say so first?"
"What difference does it make? Nothing's changed."
"She's our queen! Your sister! You fucking-idiot!" Alexei yelled, getting the surprised attention of every prince in the room.
"Oooh, little Admiral Alexei bares his teeth…." Dirk cooed.
Alexei's hand came up to slap Dirk in the face, "You didn't think her vessel arriving in shambles without her was important?"
"Or Hans…" Georg added, exchanging glances with his twin brother.
"Please. Hans can stay in Rheland for all we care." Derrick snorted.
"Dirk, how many people know about this? What about Frederick? Don't you think he has a right to know?!" Viktor demanded.
"Like hell if I'm going to be the one to tell him. I'd like to live, thank you very much."
Astor didn't wait for the rest of the interrogation to play out. Subtlety was not a strong suit for much of the family and judging by the number of servants crowded at the door, news of the vessel's return would spread like wildfire throughout the castle. Even worse, when he realized that the earlier conversation that he eavesdropped on was no doubt yet another retelling of this story. Without hesitation, he grabbed the captain's arm and dragged him away.
"C'mon. We have to hurry." Astor hissed, "It'll be a hell-of-a-lot worse if the news reaches my brother before you do."
Down the corridors, up two flights of stairs, by the time they reached the king's private study, they both were out of breath. Hostetter leaned against the wall and looked at the prince, "This will be my end, I know it."
"No." Astor said, "but I won't sugar-coat it. It will certainly feel like it for as long as we're in there. Compose yourself the best you can. From this moment on, everything is about to change."
One long deep breath later, Astor raised his hand and swiftly knocked on the large door. There wasn't a response, not that he was anticipating one. He knew Frederick wanted to be left alone. It didn't stop him from knocking once more and then pushing his way into the chamber. Hostetter followed only a few steps behind him.
Frederick was seated behind his parchment-littered desk. It was a sight Astor had gotten used to. Over the last few weeks, the usually neat and organized monarch let some messier habits take over. He attributed it to stress levels and assumed everything would sort out when the festival ended, and things returned to normal.
Now, he knew things would become far worse before ever getting better.
Frederick was hunched forward, reading over a large document. If he was aware of the intruders in his space, he didn't let on.
"Fred—"
"—I'm not hungry." Frederick interrupted without looking up. "You all can start without me."
"We're not here about dinner." Astor sighed.
"Then whatever it is, I'm not interested." His eyes glanced up to briefly land on his brother before going back to the paper. He didn't even notice the sea captain standing a few steps behind. "And I'm busy. Whatever it is, it can wait."
"No. It can't." Astor came closer and slammed his palms down on the desk. "And I'm going to stand here until you address us."
Frederick sighed heavily at the outburst. He tossed the parchment down onto the desk and leaned back in his chair. "Fine. You have my attention. What do you want?"
Astor straightened up and waved his hand to signal the captain to step forward out of his shadow.
"Y-Your Majesty—" Hostetter said softly with a respectful bow.
Frederick's eyes shifted to the left, and the instant they landed on Hostetter, the recognition showed across his face. "Captain Hostetter…." He said softly. A relieved smile was working its way out as the initial shock hit him. "You're… you're early." The smile widened at the assumed meaning of their visit and slowly, he rose to his feet. "Then… the Qu—" His voice left him as he got a closer look at his officer. The exhaustion, disarray, and overall discomfort was enough for the euphoria to wear off. His eyes then traveled to his brother. The solemn expression instantly wiped the relief and budding excitement from his features, and he developed a deeper frown of his own.
"Frederick…" Astor sighed heavily, "There's something you need to hear…."