Chapter 4: His Piece
Tiny crafted figurines move across the board with wooden movements, never betraying an expression or a revealing hint of tactics. They click and clack against the playing surface with feet tucked together and miniature props held close and tightly. Each piece has a unique feature to its face and design down to the very oil paints used by the finest crafter. The board, itself, is worn with grooves and dents from accidents and frustrated players quitting not even before finishing the game. Should one touch the surface, that person would find it smooth and sanded from polished players and pupils alike. Here, two new players conduct their first game together with open minds and greater patience: a prince and his pet.
"The king is the most important piece in the game. The game ends when he is conquered." During their game, the prince teaches his pet the rules while incorporating Crodinian policies to help guide his pet's developing language skills. "Every king in the world has a title to call his own. The king of Crodinia, as you know, is called the Sun King for his radiance and strength. In the Alliance of Dotriba, there are three rulers: Francis Bonnefoy, the Iris King, Antonio Fernandez Carriedo, the Golden King, and Gilbert Beilschmidt, the Crimson King." He places a mercenary from the general's gambit and gestures for his opponent to play. "You met all three of them after the hunt following my birthday celebration. Over in the Unity of Thursaunia, there is Roderich Edelstein, the Teacup King; it runs as a joke because of how classy and yet fragile he is. We met him and his wife that day, too."
Before the prince can continue, his pupil asks a question in broken Crodinian after moving his general in front of his tower. "Do you have a title?" While a remarkably fast learner, Leon's accent is still noticeable, and the prince wonders if it always will be. Nevertheless, he makes do with what the Altorienese is capable of and works steadily alongside him.
"No, Leon. Princes don't have titles." He takes a pause. "But in his own sense, my brother has one for special cases, as you are aware of." Leon blinks and cocks his head like a curious bird waiting for a reply. The prince is more than happy to explain. "It's very unusual for there to be two kings ruling a single kingdom. You see, the kingdom of Crodinia is spilt into five provinces. I was born in the western province whereas my brother was born in the southern province. The capital, where we are right now, is located in the central province.
"It's always been that the oldest son in the central province takes the throne. Even though he is the official king, the other provinces have their own separate rulers who govern the lands in case of invasions or absences. My brother, Lukas, is the only son to the southern province. I am the only son of the western province."
He stops as he sees the look on his pet's face. It appears he does not understand why he and his brother have different rulers for fathers, so he takes the time to explain.
"My brother and I are born from the same mother, but we both have different fathers. Lukas' father passed away before I was born, and my mother remarried with the ruler of the western province." Seeing that Leon is satisfied with the explanation, he resumes his initial exposition. "When Lukas' father died, everyone assumed my brother would be the one to take over the southern province as the next ruler, but until then, he was too young and inexperienced. My mother sent us both to the central province where the king's heir, Mathias, was barely older than my brother. Everyone thought the two to be the ideal companions, and together, they could form a strong connection between the south and capital." The prince sighs and folds his hands. "I was only a child when we moved here—barely six. I missed my mother so much. I still do."
His Altorienese pet is silent. Being most likely an orphan, he does not have the luxury of thinking about his parents. At least the prince's parents are both still alive and well; even his brother lost his father. He should not be so greedy, he thinks, and quickly apologizes.
"Forgive me. I shouldn't have mentioned that. Returning to my brother, he and Mathias became close friends. You couldn't see it at first, but there was something between the two of them that even I didn't have with my brother." The prince swallows. "It turned out that that something was the love only two partners could share. When they both came of age, they married one another, and the southern province was assimilated under the central province's reign. Because of that, in my brother's own right, he is actually a king, too, but his title is different. He is simply called the Shadow."
"The Shadow," Leon repeats.
"Correct. He is the darkness to Mathias' light. While Mathias reigns in the sun's light and warmth, my brother gives orders from the hidden covers of his king and deals with deeper political affairs. The more power Mathias has, the more power my brother has, for you see, the stronger the light, the darker its shadow. That is the way Crodinia's ruling system works."
His pet blinks. "Do you have a role, Master?"
The prince still feels unused to the way his pet addresses him. Since they are on two different tiers, he felt it best to be addressed in that manner: pet and master, property and owner. Normally in the castle, he is addressed with formalities by the servants and doting words by his brother and his king. All subjects add on his title of "prince," and only royalty addresses him by his real name every now and then. To be called "Master" is new to him.
"I am supposed to take up rule back at the western province. Since the southern province is also overseen by my brother and my father is more fit to rule, everyone thought it was best for me to stay here in the capital so that I might gain more experience."
Leon tilts his head towards his master. "You miss your mother, but do you miss your home?"
The boy's Crodinian is developing smoothly. Even at his age, the prince was having trouble with Tabrinish despite the languages sharing the same grammar and characters. Already, Leon is able to understand basic phrases and grasp Crodinian characters and grammar at less than a week of lessons. He is truly amazing.
"Yes, Leon," he sadly smiles. "I miss the green hills and vast oceans. Though I was but a child, I still miss chasing the sheep and soaking in hot springs." He shakes his head. "But I'm being selfish. Given some organization, I can visit my home any time. You on the other hand…" He presses his lips together. "Do you miss your home, too, Leon?"
To his amazement, the boy bitterly shakes his head, a violent glow in those golden pools of his. The prince has only seen this kind of look on his pet's face once—the time he inquired about reading of his fallen empire's stories. It is a resentful look, an almost hateful one. It frightens him and yet it fascinates him. He cannot fathom where this source of negative energy came from; to pry into the Altorienese boy's past is his right, but he wonders if these are things that should be dwelled upon for any human being.
By restraining his biting curiosity, the prince refrains from inquiring any further into the boy's past and decides to return to their game. "Your move, Leon." He watches as his pet hovers his hand over his queen, thinking he might try to place an attack on his tower, but he, instead, makes an unanticipated move for his sage and places it straight in the attack line for his opposing mercenary.
The prince stares baffled at the Altorienese's decision. It is foolhardy for anyone to sacrifice a precious piece such as a sage and especially for nothing. Growing suspicious, the prince anticipates his opponent's next moves and tries to see if there is a trap waiting for him in the future. He stops and looks upon the chessboard. There are no traps to be laid. He understands this is only his pet's first game, but he thought his pet knew more than giving up his pieces so easily. With no better move to make, he places his mercenary into position and claims his sage.
"Leon, the sage is a powerful piece," he tells him with a stern voice. "You shouldn't give it up so easily. With the right strategy, it can almost be as powerful as the queen."
His pet says nothing, focusing his eyes on the chessboard the entire time. He then makes a simple move of placing a mercenary forward and gestures for his master to move next. The prince is about to see where he should act when a loud noise bursts into their private quarters.
"Emil! I thought I'd find you here!"
Completely startled at the abruptness of that loud voice, the prince kicks his leg out from underneath their playing table and sends the chessboard and its pieces flying all over the floor. He immediately goes into a panic, as both the chessboard and its accompanying pieces are invaluable antiques.
"A-Ah!" he gasps and hurls himself to the floor, examining each piece and making sure none of them have cracked more than they already have. "Mathias, you frightened me!"
"Did I?" The king's bright expression remains unchanged when he sees the calamity he has caused. "Don't worry about that, Emil. I can get an artisan to make you a new set."
"But this one…" the prince breathes with a tight chest and heavy heart. "…It belonged to Lukas' father."
The king has an unusual way of showing dismay. Instead of transforming his attitude into one of seriousness or solemnity, he tries to better the situation by using the optimistic approach; with the prince and his brother, however, it rarely works.
"I'm sure everything's fine, Emil," he chuckles and approaches the pair. He picks up a piece and turns it back and forth for any cracks or chips. "See? Nothing! It's just like it always was!"
"I-I suppose…" The prince looks at all of the dropped pieces and puts them back on the table. Meanwhile, his pet takes the chessboard, aligns it on the table, and begins placing down the pieces one by one. When they are finished, the king pats his brother-in-law on his back, nearly making him cough.
"Everything turned out for the best! No harm done!" As he stands there grinning, the prince feels an odd fire boiling inside him. It was Mathias' fault that he became startled and knocked the pieces to the ground. He was not even sorry about it, and why should he be? He is the king before he is Mathias to the prince. He is no longer the person the prince can tease or humor alongside. He cannot view him as an old friend or a fatherly figure anymore. Mathias is his brother-in-law and king of Crodinia. He cannot go against his speculations.
But what if something had been broken, the prince wonders? Then what? What would he tell his brother? That Mathias scared him into dropping the chess pieces? That would be bad for both accounts. It would be better to lie about it and say Leon did it.
"No, what am I thinking?" the prince silently mouths and squints his eyes as if it will blight out his thoughts. He gave Leon his word that he would not have anything happen to him on his account. His pet is his responsibility, not some scapegoat he can push around and order for his amusement. At least, he hopes he does not treat Leon in that regard.
Brushing his doubts aside, the prince stands to meet his king and speaks with him. "Thank you for helping me, Mathias. So why are you here?"
"Mm? Oh, I came here to see how you an' yer pet were doing." He looks at the Altorienese boy who has since set up all the pieces back on the chessboard. As with Lukas, he keeps his eyes hidden behind his bangs though he makes an attempt to look him in the eye. "So this is the one, right? And he's Altorienese?"
Worried for his pet's safety, the prince tries to stall any surfacing thoughts with questions. "So you just heard about my present?"
The king chuckles and scratches the back of his head where his hair is not as scruffy and unkempt. "I've been so caught up with other things that yer brother didn't get the time to tell me. Y'know, I thought it was weird that he'd give you some Altorienese guy, but this doesn't seem too bad. If yer happy with him, that's all that should matter, right?"
Even this surprises the prince. Normally, the king is insensitive or, at the very least, oblivious to any presumptions other than how awful the Altorienese are. The prince can hardly blame his brother-in-law, remembering the long nights he spent planning battle strategies with his then-fiancé and hearing the tragic news of good men and innocent people dying in the war.
"He did give me an Altorienese pet for a reason," the prince brings up. "It had to do with being able to 'tame' him." He knows very well that the Altorienese are considered property and slaves in the rest of the kingdoms, yet referring to his time spent as "taming" Leon disturbs him. A slave does not need taming, it needs breaking. A pet should only have to be tamed if it is anything but human. Where, then, does this boy fall under, he thinks?
"Emil, I've gotta say, it wasn't easy 'taming' yer brother," the king jokes, or at least, that is what the prince thinks he is doing. Royal birthright aside, Mathias has always treated Lukas as a good friend and spouse if anything. The prince cannot imagine the king ever trying to break his brother the way he is trying to teach his pet.
Since the prince does not give any response to this comment, the king decides to get back to his own duties, adding on a quick reminder for the day ahead. "Emil, don't forget we've got hearings in an hour."
"I haven't," the prince replies. He especially does not want to forget since today's hearings come directly from couriers of the neighboring kingdoms. Messages from as close as Belethren and Dotriba will be there, along with affairs as far as Tabrini and even Arbren. This will be the first time the prince can sit at one of the foreign policies hearings, and he looks forward to seeing what sorts of settlements his brother and the king have to deal with when they are not feasting or hunting together.
"Take care, Mathias," the prince lightly bows to him as he prepares to leave. His pet also bows until his face is parallel with the floor. The prince cannot even see his face until the king leaves and he lifts himself in an upright position. As always, he compliments his pet for remembering his royal customs and pats him on his head. "You did well, Leon. Shall we start another game? Maybe we can finish it before the hearings start."
His pet nods, and they return to their seats; however, there is something peculiar about the way the chess pieces are set up. Each one is in the exact position as they were in before the prince knocked them to the ground. At first, the prince thinks it must be a simple coincidence, but he soon remembers the position of his queen and the number of mercenaries he had left on the board. Even the pieces that he and his pet claimed are on each other's side in the same arrangement. The only possible answer to this phenomenon is that Leon single-handedly memorized the exact placement of each chess piece this entire time.
"Leon, you're amazing," the prince says with his mouth half open. "You were paying attention the entire time?"
To his credit, the boy just shrugs as though treating it like a casual claim and nothing out of the ordinary. "It's your turn, Master."
"Pardon?" he looks up. "Right. Yes, I remember now. I was about to move until Mathias came in." He stares at the board and looks upon it. His strategy has since been lost, and he takes a good few minutes to devise a plan fresh in his mind. He wonders all the while if his pet still remembers his own strategy and thinks to lightly bring it up in between turns.
"So, Leon, how did you manage to memorize the pieces?" he asks. "Did you learn how to do that somewhere? It's very amazing."
The boy's eyes wander to the chessboard as he places down a sage and claims one of the prince's mercenaries. "Something my father told me about," he mutters in jumbled Crodinian.
Now that the prince thinks about it, he realizes he knows very little about his own pet's history. He has been trying to keep it hidden away for so long that he never bothered to pry too much. "Your father plays chess?"
"Never did." His pet sits in waiting while waiting for the next move. For a brief spell, his entire body is as still as stone save for his pair of golden orbs that jolt and twitch as he reads the battlefield. The prince wonders if perhaps he has been trained in the art of war and strategy considering his empire was under attack for several years.
"There had to have been some way you learned." The prince moves a tower in front of his pet's general, ensuring his safety with his looming queen waiting for the opportunity to strike.
Again, the Altorienese boy shrugs. "My father just told me to keep my enemies close. That and studying. Lots of studying."
"Oh…" The prince watches as his pet suddenly brings out his queen and takes his general. His own queen is now prone to an attack from the opposing general, forcing him to sacrifice his sage if he wants to protect his king. "That was good," he mutters. "I didn't see that."
His pet says nothing and waits for him to enact his strategy. While doing so, the prince's eyes study the new playing field. He still has more assets, but the manner in which Leon distributed his mercenaries leaves him little room for retreat. Either he will have to take a brute force approach or wither in a slow defensive stance. When at last his pet plays his turn, he does not claim a mercenary that threatens his tower, but instead moves his own mercenary forward.
Perhaps, the prince thinks, the Altorienese boy is simply new to the game, and he takes the last of his towers with his mercenary. Through and through, they play, coaxing out their players until they are both forced to move their kings and queens to advance. The prince grows focused. He has played games with his brother and never won a fair game, but this is an entirely new kind of strategy. It feels like bait and switch: when he thinks he is winning, a new threat arises to keep his mind racing to reconstruct his plans. Eventually, he becomes so caught up in protecting his king that he fails to see his opponent's mercenary trekking to his field and reaches the other side.
"Master, my queen back, please," Leon says, holding out his hand to reclaim his queen that the prince earlier captured.
"…It's yours," the prince begrudgingly sighs and hands his pet the queen. He scolds himself for failing to see that little ploy. Out of everything, he was so focused on the important pieces and protecting his king and queen that he failed to see the mercenary sneaking its way over to his side. And worst of all, now that his pet has a queen, his king is completely vulnerable. With his mercenaries in the way, his queen cannot come to his king's aid in time. He stops and calculates it through. If he moves one way, he can buy some time, but the remaining sage will come to claim his king. Another direction, and the kings will fight with Leon's taking the other's head. Last but not least is the queen. She is too strong and expansive. Her area of attack makes it impossible for him to escape. Even after stalling, he cannot hope to win. He has lost this game. Leon takes this win.
"You won, Leon."
His pet blankly stares as it not looking directly at him.
The prince, while abash about losing, takes his king from the board and presents it to his pet. "Here. You earned it."
Tilting his head, the boy accepts the prize and holds it in his hands. This is his first win for his first game, and the prince is honestly awestruck. If this is Leon's true caliber, he wonders how well he might fare against someone like his brother. It cannot be just a fluke, he thinks, after seeing him place each piece back on the board in their correct places. Leon is a worthy opponent.
"Thank you, Master," his pet bows.
"Think nothing of it," he faintly smiles. "You deserved it. But we have to clean up now. I need to get ready for the hearings."
"Yes, Master," Leon responds and assists him in putting the pieces back in their case. When they finish, the prince leads his pet down to the entrance of the throne room. No one save for royalty, esteemed advisors, scribes, and the couriers are allowed in the throne room during this time. Leon is no exception, so he spends his time in the courtyard until the prince finishes.
"It looks like it's going to be sunny, so stay inside the shade, alright?" the prince instructs his pet. "Wait for me here. I'll get you when I come back."
"Yes, Master."
Before leaving, he leans forward and places a light kiss atop his pet's forehead. "I'm proud of you, Leon. You're very clever."
"Thank you, Master…" he can barely hear his pet say as he bows his head. "Take care."
"I will, Leon," the prince smiles at him and enters the throne room where his brother and the king are already preparing for the long hours ahead.
Much to the prince's disappointment, the foreign affairs are barely different than the rest of the hearings he has attended. Most local hearings consist of receiving more aid for plowing fields or lesser tax burdens on their villages to survive another year in the drought seasons. The foreign affairs hardly differ in that they are more glamorized versions of subject needs: a duke from Thursaunia wants the king to attend a party in celebration for his niece's wedding, Arbren wants to open a trading port from the western seas for easier trade, and Dotriba wants some funding and participants for a grand tournament they are holding in a months' time. Through and through, the king, the Shadow, and the advisors collaborate and consolidate together in order to come up with reasonable solutions to these propositions. Not all of them go smoothly, and some are declined altogether. In the events of all of these decisions, not once does the prince get a chance to state his own opinion. At this point, however, he is not sure if his vote will make much of a difference. He has knowledge of the other kingdoms, but without understanding how each kingdom works first-handedly, he is better off sticking to his books and maps than sitting beside his brother.
After the last of the Dotriban couriers are taken care of, the hearings undergo a recess before finishing with Belethren and Tabrini. The king disappears to consult with his advisors while the prince and his brother move to the side room for some privacy.
"How are you taking the foreign affairs, little brother?" Lukas asks when they take a seat in plush chairs better than the stiff seats made of wood and metal.
"I thought they'd be more…I don't know. Exciting?"
"Exciting?" his brother echoes with some amusement to his voice. "Silly Emil, being a king may have its privileges, but most of the tasks they attend to are normally anything but exciting."
The prince's expression falls. "Yes, I figured as much."
His brother strokes his white hair. "So what were you expecting?"
He chews on his lower lip. "I just thought maybe we'd do something interesting like helping build monuments from the war or trying to restore some of the fallen cities with one another. Or even travelling to the Otherlands. I was hoping…" His voice softens. "Maybe that's what it was. I was hoping for too much."
Sensing his despairing disappointment, the prince's brother takes his head and leans it against his shoulder. As he speaks, he fawns over his soft tufts in the same manner their mother once did for them many years ago. "Little brother, the kingdoms take care of their own affairs after the war. This is a time of restless peace. The kingdoms are still not completely stable yet. These things take time to repair. Even though we allied together to defeat the Altorienese Empire, the kingdoms still have trouble trusting one another—especially when Altorien attacked so suddenly. For that matter, we were doing it more for the sake of our own people, not for each other. That is why they do not bring up these things, and that is why the kingdoms are separated the way they are."
As he speaks, the prince's eyes grow heavy with the familiar touch of his brother's hand. He nearly drifts to sleep having spent his mental energy for the day and having to sit for hours without any exercise. He looks out of the thin window to the fields growing greener with the passing days. With the summer sun hovering over Crodinia in longer hours, the nights will end in the north completely, making for interesting vacationing and sleeping habits. A thought occurs to him that he might ask his brother for permission to travel to the north with his pet to visit his uncles. It has been so long since he last saw them.
"Don't worry too much about the restrictions, little brother," Lukas continues. "There are instances when we do settle trading affairs personally. And since you're of age, perhaps one day, you can come with us."
"Really?" Hearing this, the prince immediately opens his eyes and sits up like an overzealous child. "I'd love to…! I mean, that would be wonderful, brother."
His brother smiles and kisses him with a warm embrace. Beneath his thin, cold hands lies a burning warmth that only a loving brother can express. "I'm sure it would, Emil."
Shortly after, the hearings resume with the couriers from Belethren and Tabrini. Belethren is the first to go, listing off details of trading partnerships and negotiating deals. Most of the negotiations between the kingdoms run smoothly; Mathias is a good friend to Belethren's Tulip King, Tim Maes, and the two used to spend hours discussing trading opportunities with the other kingdoms using ports and new shipping canals. With some quick consulting with his advisors, Mathias settles on building a new port in his kingdom's southeastern seas so that Belethren might trade with them more easily.
When the decision is made official, Lukas turns to the seer of the hearings and asks for the Tabrinish representatives. "All of the Belethrenic affairs have been addressed. Bring in the first Tabrinish courier."
The seer summons the first—and apparently only—representative who has been waiting for a good three hours now. As he comes in, he holds a simple roll of parchment tucked in a simple leather casing, where the others usually brought with them bags to carts of documents to justify their propositions.
"This should be quick," the prince hears his brother mutter. The king then grants the courier permission to speak, and the throne room falls silent for him.
"Your Highnesses, Mathias Køhler and Lukas Bondevik, I am here on behalf of the Department of Tabrinish Investigations to bring you a message from the chief with a royal decree from the Kirkland family, themselves."
Mathias gestures a hand at the man. "Present your case."
The courier bows. "There have been mysterious raids on Tabrinish reserves built specifically for the Altorienese prisoners, consisting of pillaging residential homes and murdering children and women. As of now, the origins of the attacks have not been discovered, but there have been similar cases all over the island kingdoms. Further messages have been sent out to the other kingdoms, but with Crodinia as one of Tabrini's allies currently, the kings thought to send this message to you posthaste. This is a message bringing caution and concern should you be harboring any Altorienese prisoners and/or colonies. "
The throne room, being silent, hears a scoff from their king's husband and second-in-command. Lukas wears a disinterested expression after hearing the final message of the hearings. "Is this what this is about? Then we don't have anything to fear. We did not take any Altorienese prisoners to use them as slaves or any obvious colonies from the fallen empire. Those have been left and sold to the other kingdoms, and even if there were attacks, if the target is women and children, so be it. There will be less Altorienese scum in the world, but if you so want, then we will keep your kings' warnings into consideration."
Having said what most of the royal court thinks, Lukas turns to his husband for any lingering thoughts. "Have anything to say on the matter, Your Highness?"
"Nothing," the king says. "But Lukas is right. We'll take heed of your warning. Thank you for telling us and being so patient today."
The courier humbly bows to the royal family. "Of course, Your Highness. Serving you is a pleasure."
"Then you are dismissed," the Shadow says, waving his hand at him. "Your Highness?"
The king clears his throats. "I declare the hearings over. Thank you all for coming here."
With that, the courier exits the same way he came, and the rest of the court retreats into the discussion chambers. The prince's brother urges him to stay close and places a hand around his shoulder while they follow the king out of the throne room.
"Ah, what a day," the king yawns and takes off his crown and places it in its proper casing. He is always eager to remove his crown when he can, having always struggled to put the heavy headpiece on with his overly messy hair. "I'm starving. Lukas, Emil, what about you two?"
"I could use some nourishment," Lukas tells him. "And you, little brother?"
"S-Same…" the prince sheepishly admits. "But I have to retrieve my pet first. I'll join you in the dining hall, then?"
"Alright. See ya there." The king then leaves without another word, eager to get his mind off of the hearings and finally exercise after sitting for so long. Lukas, on the other hand, decides to escort his brother and follows him to the courtyard where the Altorienese pet supposedly is. Along the way, he chats with his brother about his progress with his gift.
"So how has your training been holding up, little brother?"
"Smoothly," the prince says with some pride. "He's very smart. I've been teaching him Crodinian."
"And how has that been going?"
"Very well. He has an accent, but he knows enough Crodinian that I can converse with him. And he is a good chess player. He…He defeated me on our first game."
"Huh." The prince's brother stalls in his response. "Perhaps he will prove a worthy opponent if he can beat you…or were you going easy on him?"
The prince purses his lips. "I don't believe I was. He won fairly."
"Maybe your instructions were good. But that aside, you are happy with your gift?"
"Very much, brother," the prince smiles. "I've never had a better one. Thank you."
"Not at all. Anything to make my little brother happy."
The prince continues to smile, and they walk together until they reach the courtyard, but much to the prince's surprise, his pet is not in the same spot he left him in. "That's odd," he frowns. "I could have sworn I left him right here. He's never gone against my word before." His brother is silent as he searches the courtyard for any sign of his pet. He calls out Leon's name, but when he receives no response, he begins to worry.
"Brother, I can't find him." His heart starts to hurt. He cannot imagine where his pet could have gone to not even respond to his voice. The castle is large, and if his pet got lost, there is no telling where he might have wandered off.
His brother fortunately has a calm and logical mind in situations like these and goes to the nearest soldier for clues. "Sir, my brother is looking for his pet, an Altorienese boy, somewhere around his teens. Have you heard or seen anything about him?"
The guard shakes his head. "No, Your Highness. I just came here for my shift barely ten minutes ago. I have not received any word of activity regarding that, but I will inform you as soon as possible if I receive any information."
The prince gets an uneasy sense of dread. It is just like the time he went through the dungeon to retrieve his pet on the other side of the castle grounds. He pet could be suffering again, and it is his fault. He should have been more careful and considerate. It would have been easier for him to take his pet into a safe place, and he scolds himself for not thinking things through. Most of all, he promised that nothing would happen to his pet, and if he cannot keep that promise as his master and a companion, then what good would he be for his subjects, he wonders?
"Brother, I'm so sorry…" His voices weighs with the burdening unease and concern for his pet. He wants to find him as soon as possible, even if it means tearing apart the entire castle to do so.
Sensing how distraught his brother is, Lukas places a reassuring hand on his brother's shoulder. "Shh, everything will be fine, Emil."
"But how can you be so sure?"
"Have I ever let you down, little brother?"
"Well, no, you haven't." He is being truthful about that, too.
"And I don't plan to do so now." He chuckles, something the prince did not expect. "Normally, I would let you look for him, myself, but I'm curious to know what your little pet has gotten himself into if he went against your word. It will be fun thinking of his punishment. What do you think is appropriate?"
The prince swallows and leafs through his thoughts. He has not forgotten about the night in the dungeon. His brother said he would personally torture and kill his pet if he so much as went against his word. He is certain his brother has not forgotten of the threat he made, either, and races to think of something before his brother settles on his decision.
"I will chain him," he quickly decides on. "Like a leash on a dog. If I do that and carry him with me wherever I go, I will not have to worry about him running off, and everyone will know he belongs to me." He also adds, "And no matter where I go, no one will speculate about him anymore. They will not think he is my servant or a companion. He is my pet, and I will make that clear to everyone in the entire kingdom—the world if I have to."
He watches his brother smile and run his fingers through his hair. He speaks with an icy pride, which he rarely does, but it does the job of sending an exhilarating chill down the prince's spine. "That's a good idea, Emil. If that is your wish and proposed solution then I will help you go through with it."
"Thank you, brother." The prince's speech becomes forced and rigid, but it is not often when he has the privilege of being praised by his brother, let alone earning a genuine smile from him. Having been humbled by his brother and his king's accomplishments, it is a great amount of honor for him to experience anything like this. With his brother following closely alongside him, he quickens his pace and continues their search for his pet.
The brothers eventually come up to one of the maids packing dirty sheets from the guards' barracks and swapping them with newly washed ones. Lukas goes to her first, inquiring about his brother's pet's whereabouts.
"I remember seeing some guards chasing a boy outside to the western halls," she tells him.
"What did he look like?" the prince hurriedly asks.
"Dark hair, red tunic…He was agile. They were shouting at him."
The prince's stomach twists in knots for the concern of his pet. "Did the guards look like they had any reason to chase him? Did the boy give him one?"
The maid furrows her eyebrows. "I don't know. They were just chasing him, telling him that he shouldn't stop running. Forgive me, Prince Emil. That is all I recall."
"It's enough information to tell us where we need to look," Lukas says. "Thank you."
"It's nothing but a pleasure, Your Highness," she bows to him and returns to her work as they brothers make their way towards the western courtyard. The entire time they walk, the prince can only speculate why the guards were after his pet. He never made it too clear that the boy was his property, but he thought that from his pet's clothes, alone, that it would be enough to tell anyone that he was not an ordinary boy. Apparently, he thought wrong, and the feeling begins to overshadow the pride he felt from earlier. He hopes that at the very least nothing happened to his pet. It will be on him if he sees any harm done to his precious Leon.
They reach the western courtyard where the sun is starting to set. With the western side of the castle reserved for combat training, there are few trees and landscaping and plenty of open space.
"It shouldn't be too hard to find him out here," the prince tells his brother as he looks around. He nearly begins to call for his pet when he hears something in the distance alongside the castle wall.
"…Yeah! Toss him over here! Kick him! Kick him!"
"Not so tough now, are ya, boy!"
"Kneel, swine!"
The prince's heart skips a beat. His blood runs cold as he runs towards the voices as fast as his weakening breath will allow him. It is only when he reaches the wall and sees what is unfolding that he finally stops, unable to handle what is being done.
"Squeal, you Altorienese scum!" One of the castle guards shouts and spits onto a groveling boy's clothes as another pins him down by his hair. Even when looking from a distance, one can make out the dirt smudges and wounds caused by knives, fists, and armored shoes. In contrast to the Crodinians' blonde hair, the boy's dark brown hair identifies him from the rest of the men tormenting him and burying his face deep in the mud like a rundown beast.
The prince tries to scream at the guards, but no sound comes out. His voice is lost on his choking lungs as he sees his precious pet being abused by the very men that swore to protect him. They kick at his pet and poke him with spears as if trying to taunt him into fighting; it will give them the excuse to put him down like any wild animal that threatens to resist them. Being caught up in the moment, the prince feels something run down his cheek. His stomach feels sick; his lungs want to burst. He collapses on the ground knees first, helpless to himself and his pet being killed slowly. Through his blurring vision, he barely makes out the dark figure that glides past him, brushes the top of his head, grabs the nearest sword from an unsuspecting guard, and runs it straight through one of their throats.
A fountain of red comes pouring out of the man's arteries as the rest of the guards stare appalled and in horror. The unfortunate man chokes and gurgles on his own blood, trying with the last of his strength to remove the blade embedded within his neck. In a dying attempt to stop the pain, he brings his hands to his sword and barely touches it before falling to the earth like a limp bundle of rags. The blood continues to pour out of his failing heart even moments after his consciousness leaves him for good.
"Y-Your Highness!" one of the remaining guards gasps. "What in Crodinia are you doing?"
The prince cannot see his brother's face, as it is turned away from him. Even now, when the Shadow speaks with the other guards, his voice sounds void of any life or sympathy for the man he killed.
"You make my brother cry, you chase and torment his pet—my gift to him—and you have the audacity, the gall, to ask me what I'm doing? Clearly you are not fit to serve the crown if you are acting this way to your kingdom's second-in-command."
"Your Highness, please!" one of the guards pleas. "We didn't know this boy was your brother's! We thought he was some Altorienese hooligan! Honest! Please forgive us!"
In a split second, the Shadow's voice turns from hostile to sinister. Every word that pours from his mouth drips like a dark, malicious sap that grows with every second he speaks and sticks like thorns to the ears it falls upon. "Oh, I'll forgive you all. Once your services end, there will be no reasons to hold onto my wrath towards you."
Without warning or hesitation, he pulls the sword from the fallen guard's neck and brings it flying into the eye of a guard. His strike true, the blade lodges itself all the way through the man's skull and comes out trailing with steaming red blood and pink, gelatinous brain matter. By the time he pulls the sword out, the last guard has already abandoned his oath and sanity. Frightened, he starts to flee when he trips unexpectedly. Even with his body frozen, the prince can still see that it was Leon who reached out and tripped the guard, giving the Shadow the perfect opportunity to sink his sword into the back of the deserter's neck, killing him within seconds.
Once all of the guards are dead, the Shadow releases the sword and lets out a frustrated sigh. "What a waste of resources," he speaks with an uninterested voice. "They certainly weren't worth the time to train and pay." He looks upon his brother's pet with distaste at the scene that unfolded. The boy's hands are sore and red, and his skin is drenched with sweat and blood from his wounds. His clothes have since been muddied unrecognizable to any royalty, and he looks completely defeated, all in all. "You're lucky, boy," he spits. "Really lucky. This is the second time I've saved your life. You should be grateful my brother enjoys your company so much." He bends down and picks the Altorienese boy by the muddy collar of his tunic and drags him over to his brother who is still fallen on his knees.
"Emil, stand," he instructs him. "Here is your pet." He throws the boy down in front of him and examines his fingernails. "Filthy," he mutters with disgust at the blood and grime. "Still easier than hiring an executioner. Come, little brother. Mathias is surely waiting for us. We wouldn't want the food to get cold sitting around here, would we?"
With shaky legs and an even weaker stomach, the prince eventually brings himself to his feet and gazes upon his pet. Leon stares at him with a calm look; it bears no hostility or hatred towards him. He appears to look at his master with forgiveness and relief to the prince and himself.
"Master, I'm alright," he whispers despite his weak stature. "Don't cry."
"Leon…" the prince sniffs. "I'm sorry. I should have been there. I couldn't protect you…" He hiccups and wipes his stream of tears away. He feels pathetic crying like this in front of his brother and Leon, but he cannot stop. It is only until his brother helps him walk that he finally dries his tears.
"Let's get you both cleaned up," he tells him with some exhaustion. "You're both a mess. If it's too much trouble meeting us in the dining hall, I'll send someone to bring you food to your chambers. Would you like that, Emil?"
The prince sniffles and nods. "Yes. Thank you, brother."
"Of course," the Shadow smiles.
As they walk, they hear another voice coming from the boy who Lukas saved.
"Thank you, Your Highness." Perfect Crodinian. His voice, while weary, bears no accent unlike what the prince mentioned before. He is learning quickly.
"Of course." The Shadow continues to smile.
The metal feels cold against his skin. He rubs it and tries to move it away from his neck so it will not touch him. The striking gold luster reflects against his eyes like a mocking reminder of who and what he is: an Altorienese dog—a pet. He remains still and obedient when his master approaches him and kisses him, every amount of it a pure reflection of his emotions. The prince cares too much for him. It can almost be considered a foolish kind of love, but he takes it for what it is and lets the collar stay around his neck.
His master whispers some Crodinian into his ear, which he can start to make out. It sounds along the lines of staying by his side. He allows him to stroke him and pet him. The prince is too kind a person to be a royal figurehead—and too naïve.