Chapter 8: His Path
From the carriage, the prince can see Lukas and Mathias bidding their final farewells. He has never known the king to ever express any extreme forms of affection to his husband in public, but the sounds during the night do not lie. He can see how Mathias restrains himself to keep his image up. His smile breaks at the corners of his mouth like a thin, crumbling wafer, and all the while, Lukas is undeterred. The prince cannot hear their conversation, though judging from the expression on the king's face, he knows his brother is telling him something snarky, perhaps reminding him not to get into too many swordfights while he is away.
In a form of affection, Mathias at last rests a hand on Lukas' shoulder and sends him off with his last words. The conversation over, Lukas heads in the direction of the carriage where the guards are already positioned and prepared for the journey ahead.
"Emil!" the prince hears Mathias shout. "Make sure you don't cry, ya hear?!"
The prince's eye twitches. "Why does he still take me for a child?" he irritably mutters under his breath. He watches as his brother lets himself inside the carriage and sits across the prince and his pet.
"Did you get everything, Emil?" his brother asks, ignoring his husband's reminders from afar.
"Yes," he replies. "I triple-checked. Everything I need is packed." While he settles in his seat, he cannot help noticing how his brother's eyes remain transfixed on his pet's idle position, staring out the window in lost thought like a bored dog might on a long journey. He exhales as if in amusement while playing with the red ribbon around his wrist.
Stalling the journey even further, the king insists on giving his brother-in-law one last parting embrace before returning to the castle. The prince's brother rolls his eyes and tells him to make some haste if they are to hope of leaving before the sun rises at high noon.
"I can imagine Mother will already be home by the time we depart at this pace," he sighs, exasperated. "Mathias, don't disappoint me while I'm gone. I can't expect you to rely on me to run a kingdom every second of the day. Impress me, and I just might give you a little reward when I return."
Hearing this, the king's sky-blue eyes light up. "You mean you'll let me go ahead with the ship?"
Lukas clicks his tongue. Apparently, it is not the reward he has in mind. "Again with the ship," he grunts. "We'll see. The purpose of the trip is to discuss trading venues, so if everything goes according to plan, there may be ports opened up to Laciport. Perhaps you'll get your ship then."
Mathias' smile spreads so widely that it stretches along the entirety of his face. He now has something to look forward to besides the return of the two brothers. "I'll take care of everything here, Lukas. The advisors will help me. Don't you worry. Rest easy, too, Emil."
"There's no need to worry about me, Mathias," the prince says and looks in the direction of his pet to distract his attention.
Finally, Lukas shoos his husband away, and the carriage driver snaps the horses' reins. At their pace with guards on horseback flanking them from all sides, the prince estimates they should be in Thursaunia within a week's time without delays. Mathias will not be accompanying them, making the ride significantly smoother and quieter than it would be otherwise. The most the prince thinks on doing to entertain himself is reading some of the books he has packed. Other than that, he suspects the only means of amusing himself until reaching their destination is talking with the other two passengers in the carriage.
"It's going to be a long trip, little brother," Lukas tells him. "If you're tired, you're free to get some rest. I can wake you up when we reach the next stop."
The prince declines. "No, it's alright. I can stay awake," he says as he ironically stifles a yawn. "So where is our first destination?"
Lukas rolls a pristine and detailed map out on his lap and points to their location and the destinations to follow. "We are here in central Crodinia. We will try to make it to the edge of the central province by nightfall," his brother verbally maps out their trip. "From there, we will travel for a few days until we pass into eastern Dotriba. Granted, we cannot stay more than a day there. The plans are to have a group escort us through their borders and into Thursaunia. We will then stop in the north of the alliance. The rest of our journey will take us through the mountains and down towards the southwest. It shouldn't take more than a week and a half if no stalling arises. Any unexpected delays have been already taken into consideration, already."
"Right," the prince nods. It is common courtesy for people to expect some faults on travels, whether, with problems with transportation, weather conditions, or even bandits. He does not expect there will be any trouble, however. The weather is fair and warm, and the royal carriage is guarded by a team of able men assigned by the king, himself. He only needs to concern himself with entertainment the entire way there.
To pass the time until then, the prince advises his pet to take in some of the scenery or rest if he needs to. His mind is too exhausted to read to him, and his brother is not in the mood to listen in on other voices. From this, the morning transitions into the afternoon before the carriage comes to a road stop by a small town.
As the Shadow and representative of Crodinia, the prince's brother takes the opportunity to check on the state of the town until the horses are watered and fed. The others stop to rest or stretch their legs, and the prince and his pet follow. Lukas returns some time later after seeing that the state of the crops are stable and the townspeople in good condition.
"You have a lovely crop this season," he notes to the town leader and thanks him for the gifts. The prince notices in his brother's hands are a woven cloth, a vial of unknown contents, and a glass ornament that appears to have some form of decoration inside. Having no room in the carriage, Lukas places the gifts into a separate chest to be carried in a following cart. The townspeople thank him for stopping by their humble home, and see them on their way. Before leaving, the prince catches the red banners and flags still hanging from some of the lodges. The Red Summer has not yet ended, and here, the people are still paying tribute to their king.
The second in command of Crodinia lets out a sigh as he climbs back into the carriage and blankly looks out the window towards the passing scenery. "All is well here. That's one place we won't have to make note of in the report."
His brother furrows his eyebrows. "Report?" he echoes.
Lukas chuckles. "You didn't think we were just traveling for one negotiation with Thursaunia, did you, little brother?" The prince says nothing. "I'm personally making note of the state of the kingdom as we travel through the roads. A great majority of villages, towns, and cities lie somewhere along the main roads in Crodinia. The ones we will be traveling on need to be inspected. It is important to know if there is a healthy harvest in the fields, livestock flourishing, whether physical health is fair, how well the commodities are holding up, and most important of all, the loyalty of the people." He looks on to his brother who is immersed in each and every one of his words. "Emil, a king is nothing without his people. A kingdom is nothing without its king. Fail to take care of the roots, and entire empires will fall. I know this. I've seen it happen."
"Yes…" The prince's voice trails off. He knows of the event his brother speaks of: the fall of the Altorien Empire. Lukas was there to see it. He lived it.
Though the event happened barely eight years ago, scholars and historians gathered together with the corners of the world to document this moment in history. Before its fall, the Altorien Empire had once been a powerful and growing force from the east, taking hold of trading routes throughout Laciport all the way to Tabrini and leading the race to metallurgy, spice, and textile production. Somewhere along the way, the emperor had a misstep in his reign, a hunger for power that could not be satiated by wealth, alone.
Supposedly it started out simply enough. The emperor sent out requests to open up new ports and roads to those exclusive to neighboring empires and kingdoms, Belethren with Crodinia, Thursaunia with Dotriba, Tabrini with the Otherlands, and so forth. These negotiations were fulfilled and satisfied well enough, but soon, the Altorienese merchants began to overrun the market. It came to pass that many trading companies and markets began to lose business and money. Protests from the non-Altorienese sprung up. Sabotage ensued.
Finally the attacks escalated so far that both sides began to go against one another. The scuffles eventually became violent. Finally, in what was considered the breaking point between peace and royal involvement, a Dotriban ship caught on fire and exploded.
The Dotribans kept strict records of their shipments and orders. There should have not been any explosives on that ship, so when it came time to point fingers at a source, all fingers pointed to the Altorienese, the heaviest producers of gunpowder in the world. It only made sense. There had been aggression between the Altorienese and the Dotribans since the empire demanded a hefty fraction of profits in order to open trade to their cities and merchandise. The Dotriban were never the most patient of people when it came to trade negotiations and were prone to violence. Having heard of the countless numbers of lives brought to ruin from both the explosion and the loss of revenue from destroyed goods, they began to attack. And, as records go, the rest was history.
The neighboring kingdoms were dragged into the already unstable ties. With the growing power of Altorien, things spiraled out of control until even the powerful trading monarchy of Belethren lost its major routes. None but the Dotriban relayed attacks back at Altorienese merchants at first; it was initially something that the other kingdoms thought they would handle by themselves. Reasonable negotiations could have been made within their borders—or so they thought.
When attacks started escalating and targeting Belethrenic ships and cargo, the Tabrinish stepped in to intervene. One by one, like a slew of mangling wolves, the kingdoms jumped in to push back the Altorienese after their allies until it became an all-out war. The Altorienese soon started to claim lands they had taken and began to expand their already enormous empire. For the other kingdoms, it was no longer about keeping trade routes open or peaceful borders, it was about protecting what they had left.
What happened in those final moments of war changed the course of history for the entire world. Coupled alongside the Dotriban and Belethrenic forces, Crodinia and its king were able to storm the capital, lay siege to the capital of Altorien and overrun its streets, supplies, and people. In the climax of the war, Crodinia lost its former king. Mathias took charge of its armies after the death of his father, who succumbed to a mortal wound. Lukas witnessed his passing. It was a blow in the kingdom, but with Mathias' spirit, the soldiers prevailed. Finally, the armies were able to storm the imperial palace and take the head of the emperor. The Altorien Empire thus dissolved with the head of the snake cut clean off and displayed in the main square of the capital city. The allying forces disbanded, returned to their kingdoms, and took with them parts of the scattered empire. Upon arriving back home, Mathias took the crown and rightful place as heir to the Kingdom of Crodinia. Altorien fell, and with it, its last lines of emperors.
All of these events were collectively documented by historians, captains, and generals who witnessed the battles firsthand. The prince was brought up learning about the war through the few letters he received from Lukas and Mathias and in time, his mentors who could teach the official history, too. Being so recent in his lifetime, he knows of each battle that his kingdom took place fighting in and with which allies. He wonders if Leon knows anything about the war that took him from his home and brought him here, and if so, how is it that he can be so dismissal about his homeland being overrun and destroyed by the very people who killed his emperor?
The prince does not state or ask Leon of anything, especially not with Lukas being across from him. War has changed his brother. Though the caring part of him remains, a twisted malice lies underneath that cool exterior, waiting to strike out like a venomous snake. He has seen it happen, the time he killed off those soldiers being the most recent recollection. As much as he wishes it would be the last, he cannot guarantee anything from the Shadow.
"Emil, you look like you want to say something," his brother suddenly says as they continue on the road.
The prince snaps himself from his daze and looks to his brother who has had his eyes on him the entire time since departing from the town. "Sorry," he emptily apologizes. "There was a lingering thought in my mind."
Lukas blinks. "Judging by what I mentioned earlier, I take it you're thinking of the war and the Altorien Empire."
He bows his head. "You know me too much, brother."
"Is there something you'd like to ask me?"
"I…" The prince hesitates. He looks to Leon who appears to be once again staring out the window. It is as if he did not understand a word of what Lukas was saying, but the prince has taught him well. He knows enough Crodinian to read books and draw from them their ideas and messages. His mind is passive yet sharp. Whatever the prince has to say should not be heard by Leon's ears, let alone an Altorienese. "It's nothing," he finally tells his brother. "Just a careless thought, really."
But once again, Lukas knows too much of his dear brother. He knows he is hesitant because of Leon's ability to understand Crodinian, a quality he finds to be somewhat of an inconvenience, but if that is how his brother wanted to raise him, then he will go by it, as well. "You're worried about your pet being offended." He catches a small jolt of movement from his brother's eyes. "Why should you be? He is yours. You've taught him to remember that, have you not?"
The prince is unsure of his brother's underlying meaning. "Yes?" he answers in more of a doubtful question than a confident statement. "I-I mean, I haven't really taught him anything else…" His voices trails off as he comes to the realization that he has just lied to his brother. What he said is not true. His actions have undoubtedly caused Leon to think otherwise. Why else would he have gone after him on the day of his punishment, and why would he forgive him and hide his actions for attacking those soldiers in the capital? The prince feels sick. He cannot fully answer his own questions, yet he still feels an obligation to protect Leon.
Is it because he has been here to offer him companionship, he wonders? Surely, he cannot be that desperate for a playmate. Leon is a gift and nothing more. He owes him and Lukas the world. Leon does not deserve the pity of the prince, yet it remains, swallowing up any pride or authority he might want to express over Leon. It makes the prince realize just how weak he truly is.
Sensing his brother's growing meekness, Lukas stops and eases up on his persistence. This will not be the time or the place to ask him of these things. There will always be another time. "That's good that you've been practicing that, Emil," he smiles. "It's important to remind him that you are a prince and he your pet. So as long as that relationship stays the same, then I will be fine with whatever it is you choose to do with him."
"Thank you, brother," is all the prince can say.
The days go by like the rest of the journey: visit a town or village here, converse with the citizens and accept gifts. Lukas apparently planned for this ahead of time since he brought along with him an empty cart and plenty of chests. The prince initially thought there were full of gifts to give to the Dotribans and Thursaunians, but now he knows they are for holding gifts given to them from the citizens.
"What are you going to do with them, brother?" the prince asks as they leave the last town before crossing into the Trinity of Dotriba.
"Distribute them among the Thursaunian merchants," he answers. "They will be of no use to us at home. There isn't anything of worth keeping on display, however much I think Mathias would like to keep everything." He sighs. "That oaf is too sentimental sometimes." The prince nods in agreement. "Really, the south has better use for Crodinian furnishings and drapery than we do, I would think. They know how to haggle to the right buyers."
"And what of our trip to home?"
"We will be taking a different route. Rather than traveling the length of Crodinia we will be going westward across the western border of Dotriba into Belethren. Should we receive any gifts up until that point, we will distribute them accordingly. Here's a question for you, little brother: who do you think is the better of the two to buy from, the Belethrenic or the Thursaunians?"
"You're asking me right now?"
"I'm asking you right now," Lukas echoes. "You've studied up on trade and economics. You should know this."
The prince gives it some thought. "Well, if you're talking about the bulk of Thursaunia, I'd say you'd be better off buying from the Belethrenic. They know how to give you a reasonable price while still making profits for themselves. But if it's just the southern part of Thursaunia, then that region would be better to buy from them because they have guaranteed quality and supply—but one would have to factor in what sort of wares are being bought. If it's weapons, definitely the Thursaunians. But if it's fish or spices, then perhaps the Belethrenic."
"Hmm." The prince's brother thoughtfully lowers his eyes as he ponders the answer. Anything can sound intelligible if given the right delivery, but he still takes into consideration how valid those statements are. "You're right about the Belethrenic being a good choice to buy from. They are a formidable trading partner, yet you also pointed out the specific region within the alliance, something that is also important. You should also note that not every part of Belethren is not ideal to purchase and barter with; there are swindling traders, too, and the further into the east you go, the more aggressive they become."
"I never understood that. Is it because of the lack of ports or because of the competition mainland?" the prince asks.
"You tell me, little brother," the Shadow chuckles. "What has happened along the roads in recent years?"
While presented in the form of a question, the prince receives his answer through quick deduction. "It's because of the mistrust and border enforcements due to the war, right?"
"The main factors, correct. There are also changes in shipping throughout the oceans as of late, those mainly being affected by exploration in the Otherlands and all throughout Arbren. And then there's Altorien…"
The prince's eyes wander back to his pet. Still, he appears unmoved and unfazed by the conversation going on, as if it was as dull as eavesdropping on castle servants talking about the weather.
"You're quite fond of your pet, aren't you?" Lukas chuckles, watching his brother eyeing his gift.
"Very much," the prince hopes to shortly reply to prevent further delving into the comment.
His brother brushes his bangs behind his ear. "So, going back to what you were asking me about, who do you think we should distribute our presents to?"
The prince does not hesitate. "The Belethrenic?"
"The Belethrenic," he echoes. "Say that in a more confident voice, little brother. The people need assurance."
"The Belethrenic," tries again in a more declarative tone.
"Good. And I take it your pet responds in the same way?"
The prince only nods this time.
"As he should," Lukas responds to this gesture. "You should never have to doubt his word. A good ruler or master will command reverence and faith in his underlings. I take it you're getting enough practice with my gift?"
"Yes," the prince says without cracking his voice. Is that all his pet is to him, he wonders? That his brother meant to give him Leon to practice commanding? But even then, Leon has not always been completely obedient. He stops, but only in time. He listens, though only to a certain reserve. He is more than just a dog or a bird. He calculates and reasons, and because of that, the prince does not know if he is under complete control. As he has said, Leon is only human, after all.
"Brother?"
"Yes, Emil?"
He wonders if he should ask this question. It will undoubtedly bring upon a dark answer, yet his urge to confirm his reaction boils through.
"What of those who do not acknowledge us as rulers, those who..." He searches for the words. "…fail to demonstration respect?"
He first believes Lukas will deliver a curt and underlying response, but unexpectedly, his brother demonstrates such a sincere expression that it appears more unsettling than a direct face. With gentle eyes and a caressing voice, his brother ensures him that there are proper ways of taking care of such individuals.
"Dearest brother, were I to command respect through aggressive means, that would not make me a good ruler. Our people love us. We have fought and risked our lives to preserve their well-being, and in placing trust in them, there is a better mutual understanding. It is never too healthy to become too suspicious of your own subjects. That can lead to delusion and paranoia, cases that have happened with rulers throughout the course of history. And to those who are unable to recognize that, well, then we just simply have to convince them through other methods."
"Methods?" the prince blinks.
"Yes. You'll come to learn how to conduct them as you assimilate within the inner circles, Emil. For now, you're still a young adult. There is much to be learned. The answers will come with time."
Neither party indulges into the topic anymore. The Shadow dodges a clear-cut answer; the young prince does not wish to know. All the while, Leon stares out the window, blissfully free from the burdens that the Crodinian royalty must carry.
After traveling for days on the Crodinian roads and passing through meadows and low hills, the royal party arrives at the Dotriban border gate, a magnificent if not intimidating feat of enforced stone walls lined with spikes and impressive pillars. Along the Crodinian side, there are banners displaying the Crodinian Cross. On the other, the Dotriban Trinity hangs in three circles entwined in a wreath of thistle and thorns. It is not the most grand or welcoming of banners, but it does signify a symbol of power.
Upon reaching the borders, once checking with the Crodinian officials, a cavalier presents a scroll of papers to the Dotribans, signed and stamped by Mathias Køhler, himself. Listed are the documented names of men passing through the borders and a request to provide an escort through the narrow strip of the unity. By northern Dotriban respects, the rules state that any representatives of royalty passing through must have appointed records and clearance by any individual ranking from a duke, duchess, or higher. Further down the list, merchants and vendors with domestic orders and checked merchandise are allowed through, while visiting commoners need approval from village or town leaders with signed documents listing the number of days visiting. Extended visits may only be allowed from within the Dotriban authorities, ranking from lords to barons. And even deeper into the rules are other exceptions and footnotes that the prince did not bother to read, never believing he would want to stay in northern Dotriba for so long. It is only expected of this area to be so stringent, as the northern province of the Unity of Dotriba is reigned by none other than the Crimson King: Gilbert Beilschmidt.
"Everything appears to be in order," the Dotriban guard comments as he reaches the last words of the scroll. He signals to his comrades with his fingers, using two fingers and his thumb, something the prince is unfamiliar with. He then looks beyond the escorting soldiers to the royal carriage and walks up to it. Bowing, he explains the following protocol to the Shadow.
"Lukas Bondevik, second in command to the Kingdom of Crodinia, standard procedures require that we examine your luggage, weapons, and headcount of your men, if permitted."
"Granted," the Shadow replies.
The prince watches as the guard returns to his post and mouths something to a higher-looking official. From there, he hands the papers to him, and the examination begins. While doing so, Lukas lets out a small sigh and rolls his eyes to the ceiling. "We're going to be here a while, Emil. Northern Dotribans can be painfully thorough."
"I see," the prince says.
Everything runs smoothly until the officials reach the royal carriage. He sees three passengers, though he can only make out two of them. The prince can see that it is logical for him to question the third passenger. It would not make sense for royalty to travel with anyone lesser, but Leon is a pet, and he is sure adding him would not have mattered, list or not.
"Excuse me, Your Highness, but might I inquire why there is an additional passenger on board?"
Lukas calmly replies, "He is not a passenger. He is my brother's property."
Apparently the official is not satisfied with his response he continues to press. "Even so, another person is another person." He looks down the list and makes a quick count down the line. "There are supposed to be fifteen travelers, but I count sixteen."
Again, Lukas monotonously tells him, "He is not a passenger or a traveler; he is my brother's property. Had he been a dog, you would not think twice about skimming it over, would you not?"
This confuses the official. It is common knowledge that Crodinians are not particularly fond of slaves. Of all the kingdoms that divided up Altorien's territory and properties, Crodinia declined any ownership of the former Altorienese subjects and left them to the others. Even if Leon was not Altorienese, the thought of a Crodinian claiming a human being as "property" sounds quite foreign, so the prince and Lukas can understand the confusion.
"Forgive me, Your Highness, but what proof do you have that the passenger riding with you is in fact your property? I apologize for suggesting any doubts, but you will be traveling under Dotriban rules and Dotriban escorting policies. We may not be able to hold your 'property' liable should trouble arise."
With a graceful hand, Lukas sweeps his hair back, revealing his cold and calculating blue eyes. He wears a cold, stiff smile as he speaks to the officer. "And forgive me if you think I doubt the Dotribans' abilities. I think my brother, here, will be able to speak on our little 'passenger's behalf." He looks to his brother with a silent gaze, as if gesturing him to speak to the official.
"Right." The prince clears his throat and gestures to Leon. "This boy is my property, a gift given to me by my brother. He is my pet."
The Dotriban wears a blank expression. "Your pet?"
"Are you deaf?" Lukas sharply throws back, causing the Dotriban to withdraw.
"I can assure you I'm not," he responds with a hint of Dotriban pride still instilled in him. "Word, alone, is not enough to suffice, since Prince Emil's pet is not listed under the Sun King's papers. A quick examination should suffice, and if everything is clear, we will be able to provide you with a proper escort through our borders."
The Dotribans and the Crodinian escorts outside the carriage cannot see it, but the prince can see the way his brother is digging his fingernails into his palm. He wishes he thought this through before arriving at the border to save everyone the trouble and time. As much as he is irritated, however, he does not say anything, giving full authority to the prince.
"Very well. That won't be a problem," he permits. He looks to his pet. "Leon, I'm going to take you outside so they can check you, alright?" His pet eyes him with a worried look, like a dog who has been caught doing something wrong. In an attempt to reassure his pet, the prince places a gentle hand on his shoulder. "It's alright. They're not going to hurt you. They just have to make sure you're unarmed and safe to travel with us. I'll go out with you."
Leon says nothing as an attendant opens the carriage door and is led out by his ribbon. The Dotribans observe the unusual spectacle, as not only is the prince the owner of a pet roughly his age, but he is an Altorienese one at that. The official mumbles something under his breath as he completes his examination of Leon, some words of which the prince can loosely pick up like "can't believe" and "Altorienese brat." He nearly thinks to let the implied insults pass him by, but his brother is watching, as are his escorts and the Dotribans. If he is to gain respect and retain authority, he needs to earn it, he realizes.
"If you have something you'd like to say about me or my pet, you are more than welcome to say it to my face," he speaks with a firm tone, making sure to look hard into the official's eyes.
Taken aback at his brashness, the Dotriban stiffens and clears his throat. Having been trained for situations worse than this, he does not falter, but his tone is no less former than before. "Apologies, Prince Emil. I just thought it curious that you would house an Altorienese…pet as it were."
"'Curious' is a polite way to put it," the prince remarks, earning a slight hint of expression from the official.
"I mean no offense, Prince Emil. But I should advise you during your time within our borders that the Dotribans do not take kindly to your pet's kind. If you value his well-being, then you would do well to keep him hidden."
The prince takes these words and translates them as his brother might. He is not entirely sincere to foreigners, but he never poses any amount of coldness or arrogance. Confidence and faith in the people, he thinks, and goes with that.
"I trust under your guidance, there will be no need to feel concerned," he says.
"Of course," the official acknowledges. "The Altorienese is clear. You are good to proceed."
"Of course," the prince repeats the man's words and leads his pet back into the carriage. It is only when Leon sits back down that he notices how low his head hangs. He wonders if it is out of fear or respect. He has familiarized himself with the Altorienese custom of bowing one's head to show humbleness and respect. Could Leon have been doing the same, or was there another reason for lowering his head in such a manner? He cannot ask at this time, as the gates are opening, and the carriage is passing through. Like submerging himself into cold water, the prince shudders and holds his breath as he sees the last of his homeland disappear behind him. They are in Dotriban territory now. It will only be for a short while, but he feels a heavier atmosphere simply by being on the other side of the border.
Leon, as if sensing his master's distress, straightens his posture and looks to the prince. He does not speak while Lukas is present, but the prince has grown accustomed to his expressions and knows what he means to imply. With words, he takes Leon's hand and runs his thumb along his palm. The now familiar touch eases his tension and allows him to enjoy the temporary voyage through Dotriba for what it is worth. He is grateful for Leon's presence, and he is sure his pet knows it.
Having barely gone through the Unity of Dotriba for a day, the only expanse the visiting Crodinians were able to see were the dense needled trees and compacted roads. One interesting quality the prince noticed about the ride was just how smooth it was to travel along the roads. While he rarely saw any forks that led deeper into the northern province, he saw how neat and tidy everything in the north was. There were clean signposts with approximated distances for the nearby towns, even going so far as to list one for the capital located in the center of the three provinces. The trip, itself, went as smoothly as the ride, as there were no confrontations or needs for stops. By the time they reached the edge of the Dotriban border, the prince's previous apprehension wore off.
"That wasn't so bad," Lukas comments as he watches the Dotriban borders pass them by.
"It wasn't," the prince says. He feels more comfortable talking now that they are out of the area. "Brother, are their paths always that smooth?"
Having traveled through Dotriba before, the prince's brother is not surprised by the relatively good condition of the roads. "That normally applies to be main roads: those leading into towns, major cities, and, of course, the capital. There are rougher areas, but you'll find that common in Dotriba—the north mainly. I don't know how much you've studied up on transportation in Dotriba, but records show that the Beilschmidts have prided themselves in maintaining transportation and public services." He makes a small smile. "It's one of the reasons why they were able to get supplies in and out of the provinces during times of need. We are grateful for the aid they gave us during the war."
"Oh. I suppose that would be so, with how stringent they are."
"It gets things finished," Lukas lightly sighs. "Now if only Mathias would pick up a thing or two so things would get done faster."
The prince blinks. "But they're getting done, aren't they?" He cannot recall a time when he heard any advisors complaining about their king's lack of productivity. If anything, he has been praised for doing more than what his father and grandfather did.
"Oh, they're getting done—with my help, of course," his brother chuckles, "but things would go a lot smoother and more efficiently if our king would manage his time like the Dotribans." He makes a short pause. "Then again, if he were like that, he wouldn't be Mathias."
"Quite," the prince smiles. At first, he may have never believed his enigmatic and cold brother would fall for someone like Mathias, yet he supposes love just works in mysterious ways. He wonders if he will get bored being wedded to someone who is just like him. The thought of it is not very enticing.
The trip continues into Thursaunia, the sun still overhead beyond the growing mountains. Lukas tells his brother that they will be passing through them. A valley cuts through the mountains where they will be able to enjoy the Thursaunian scenery. Fortunately, the Alliance of Thursaunia expands its borders further along the east and west than in north and south. With them going into southern Thursaunia, Lukas predicts they will not need more than two days to reach their destination.
"Leon, look at that," the prince breathes as he gazes out the window. "It's like the sky's on fire." True, while he has seen such sunsets from his ocean home in western Crodinia, he has never seen it overlooking the mountains. The setting sun casts a fiery glow that lights the clouds in warm scarlets and golds. With the scenery being so far in the distance, the mountains cast clearly cut silhouettes, perfect for a painter to capture or for an observer to admire.
The prince's pet has since taken his master's word and looks out to see the sight. He does not say anything, nor does he appear particularly impressed or bored with it. The prince wishes he can read his pet's thoughts without needing to look for expressions, as Leon has done a good job of hiding any emotions since partaking on this journey. Nevertheless, he stares at it until the glowing sphere disappears, and the sky falls into a melancholic hue of blues and purples.
The inn the Crodinian party ends up staying at is situated along a "small" lake as the Thursaunian innkeeper put it. Surrounding the area are pines similar to those found in Dotriba, but accompanying such tranquil scenery and crisp air, they are more pleasant to look at and not as foreboding as the rest of the atmosphere. All around, the inn is a peaceful place unlike the capital inns in Crodinia during the Red Summer. The guests are a mellow bunch, talking softly among themselves and laughing with mirth rather than to mock and amuse one another. Lukas especially takes to this comfort, as he retires early for the evening and looks overhead to the balcony to gaze upon the lake from his window. He is not in such a tense state as he was in Crodinia, perhaps because they have since passed through Dotriba, or it is perhaps because he does not have to put on such a regal face like he does with his own people.
However, the prince is in a different mood. Having been warned by the Dotribans at the border, the fact remains that Leon is Altorienese. His presence will not fare well with the Thursaunians; the guests will undoubtedly become uneasy if they see him rooming under the inn, so as a precaution, Lukas ordered his pet be put into the stables.
"The air is crisp here," he airily sighs as he hears his brother approaching. "How is your pet faring?"
The prince's voice is low. "I don't know why we had to keep Leon with the animals, Lukas. He should be accompanying me and eating under the warm roof." At that, he shivers as a draft blows in from the open window. True, the air is fresh here, but it is unusually chilly despite them being further down south. "Brother, what if Leon catches a cold?"
"He has a blanket, and you gave him food earlier. The stall he was put in is fresh enough that he will not smell in the morning. A beggar would be grateful for those things."
"But Leon's not a beggar; he's my pet."
Lukas sighs again, though this one is more akin to his usual weighted tone. "That he is, but what would you have me do about it? Should I tell all of the guests here that there is an Altorienese boy housed inside this lovely inn?"
Shamefully, the prince bows his head. "I'm sorry," he apologies almost reflexively. "I understand they would be uncomfortable, but I don't see why it has to be this way. My pet didn't do anything. Leon is…he's human. They would not think too much had he been a dog or a cat. Why is it like this?"
His brother's voice falls into a sympathetic whisper. "Oh, Emil…Come here for a moment." He moves to his bed that is slightly larger than the prince's. When the prince sits beside him, he leans his head on his shoulder and strokes his soft white hair. "You haven't seen what I've seen, and I pray to the gods that you never have to. I understand some of the actions I've performed might have made you uncomfortable, but know that I've always been thinking in your best interest.
"You see, little brother, the roots of hating and treating the Altorienese the way they are haven't simply stemmed from the war. It goes much deeper. The same principles go for the rest of the kingdoms and empires: the Tabrinish, the Belethrenic, Dotribans, Thursaunians, Arbrenics, everyone. We are in an unfortunate period where hostility towards the Altorienese is at a noticeable high, and that is not something we can choose to control so easily within Thursaunia or even our own kingdom."
The prince rolls his head up towards his brother. "Then why did you give me Leon, knowing this? I understand I didn't have to choose him specifically, but why an Altorienese?"
The Shadow smiles. "You're a smart young man. You remember."
"To practice my responsibility? To have someone exotic—? I-I don't know. Brother, it couldn't be just those things. Is there not something more?"
"It can be what it is or more than what you perceive it to be, little brother, though I hope you find knowledge in whatever reason I decided," Lukas vaguely responds.
"I don't know…" the prince hopelessly repeats. "I don't know what you want from me. I just want Leon." Frustrated at his lack of answers, he slips from his brother's touch and leaves the bed. "I'm going out for some fresh air," he quickly announces, hoping his brother will not pursue him. As soon as he leaves the room, he knows exactly where he means to go. He walks briskly down the hall of rooms, down the stairs into the warm lounge and tavern, out the inn, past the tired soldiers who have been assigned on watch, and straight around the corner to the stables where the horses are asleep.
"Prince Emil, do you need me to accompany you?" one of the Crodinian soldiers appointed by Mathias asks. All of them are close to their king and his brother, and as such, they do not appear as bothered about their prince's additional traveling companion.
However, tonight, the prince does not need the extra attention of the Crodinians. He only wishes to see one person. "I'm fine, thank you," he tells him. "I'll just be in the stables if something happens."
"Of course," the soldier nods and returns to his task.
With no one looming over his shoulder, the prince is free to run the rest of the way. Leon is sitting in the last stall farthest away from the odor the beasts of burden may carry. He is sitting right where the prince left him, huddled against the corner with blankets draped over his body. The moment he sees the prince, his golden eyes glow as they look up at the stars and faint candlelight.
"Master?" He cannot say any more as the prince wraps his arms around his neck and kisses his forehead.
"I'm sorry. I didn't wake you, did I, Leon?" he quietly asks as he releases him.
"No."
"I wanted to see you. I'm sorry you have to stay here, Leon, but my brother says it's for the best."
"I'm fine, Master. You don't need to worry. I'm used to this."
The prince raises an eyebrow. "How so?"
As his pet will have it, he shrugs, reverting back to the Leon the prince is accustomed to back at the castle. "Traveling to Crodinia was not easy." His voice suddenly stops in a deadly pause. "Some of us died."
"Oh…" The prince backs away but does not let go of his pet. "I'm sorry, Leon."
The Altorienese shakes his head. "It's not your fault, Master."
"No, it is—at least, this is," the prince insists. "You shouldn't even be here. If things were different, you would be eating and sleeping with us right now. If I were stronger, I wouldn't have to fear what my brother or the Thursaunians would think about you. You're not a bad person, Leon, but I'm not in the position to convince others." He bites his lips. "I wonder…maybe one of the reasons my brother let you come along was to make me realize that."
Beneath Leon's calm façade, there is a subtle troubled expression wavering in his eyes. The prince wonders if it is his mind only trying to convince himself that his pet cares or understands, but he is uncertain if Leon's comprehension extends far enough to understand the responsibilities of being a prince.
"I'm sorry," the prince hurriedly apologizes once more. "I shouldn't be talking like this. I must sound like I think ill of my brother. Please believe me when I say he's just doing everything to my best interests, Leon."
"I believe you, Master," his pet softly smiles at him. The prince's stares, stunned. He has not seen his pet smile in some time, now. It relieves him knowing he has not at least lost Leon's smile. "Had it not been for your brother, I never would have gotten the chance to be with you."
The prince's heart leaps. Again, he embraces Leon and kisses his cheek. "Yes, you're right, Leon," he breathes. He can smell the hay on his dark hair; it is a nostalgic scent reminding him of his days with his mother. "I don't regret meeting you. You're the best gift I've ever received, and I don't want you to forget that, promise?"
"I promise, Master," his pet replies and kisses his cheek. "Thank you."
Just then, they hear the voice of the same soldier the prince passed by earlier. "Prince Emil? Are you still out here?"
Startled, the prince springs from the stall and stands himself up. "I'm here."
"His Highness, your brother, wants you back in your bedroom. The hour is late, he says, and he wishes for you to retire."
The prince sighs. "Alright. I'm coming. Just a moment." He leans back down and lowers his voice. "Leon, before I go, do you need anything?"
"No, Master."
"No food, no blankets? It will only get colder tonight."
His pet smiles as if amused by his concern. "I'm more worried about you, Master. I'm fine."
"You're sure, then?"
"I'm sure."
The prince returns to his feet. "Then…I'll be leaving you, Leon. I'll see you in the morning. Please take care."
"I will, Master. Good night."
"Good night, Leon." The prince departs from the stables with a feeling of loss. Though there are enough cases where his pet is not by his side at home in the castle, he misses having Leon constantly by his side. It is not any different than forgetting one's favorite accessory or trusted weapon. Leon is a bit of both to the prince and more.
As the prince returns to his room escorted by a solider, he passes by the Thursaunians and other travelers from foreign lands. How carefree they look drinking their ale and enjoying the comfort of the gentle flames by the hearth, the prince thinks. And this is all because they do not harbor the same blood or likeliness that Leon bears: those trademark narrow eyes, dark hair, and distinct Altorienese accent. He does not wish to be among those people; he never found it particularly easy to socialize with his own Crodinian subjects. Just for a little while, he wishes he could push aside his princely duties and relax for a spell. Even now, there is the looming thought of trying to appease his brother at all times.
"Will I ever be free?" he mouths as he dismisses his escort and enters his room. "I'm back, brother," he announces.
"Had enough fresh air?" his brother asks.
"Yes."
"And did you spend some good time with Leon?" The prince lightly exhales at his question. It should not have come as a surprise that his brother would know what he was doing.
"Yes."
"Good. Then come over here. I've done some thinking since you left."
The prince obeys and sits by his brother's side. Apart from the closed window, it is as though he never left. Holding him close like a doting mother, the Shadow begins to speak.
"You were asking me about why I chose to give you an Altorienese boy as your pet, especially given the time I could have done so." The prince nods, so he continues. "You have to forgive me, little brother. I cannot expect you to know how I go about thinking things through. In your position, it is not entirely possible for you to understand my reasoning, so I will explain my reasons for giving you your precious little gift in more detail.
"The first reason is a simple one: you were turning into an adult, so I thought it best to give you something an adult could hold responsibility for. Your pet may be no child, but considering his initial inability to grasp the Crodinian language and customs, it was no better than giving you a child to care for.
"The second reason is not too far off from the first: you are a prince, Emil. As I've said in the past and may continue to remind you, there may come a time when you will have to exercise your authority. Not everyone within your control will be Crodinian, and not everyone will be particularly fond of you. You need to gain respect and obedience by necessary means. You should know that your Altorienese pet is not in the most optimal of positions to like you right away. You never know; for all he thinks, he could be listening to you out of fear for his own life, and that was instilled from the very first day I gave him to you. But whatever his motivations, so as long as he listens to you without question, you remain in control. Maintaining control may not be easy. It may not be as stable as you might think. It is your job to recognize when such exceptions happen. The sooner you take care of a problem, the better things will fare. Do you understand, Emil?"
"Yes…" the prince's voice trails off. He has many questions that want to burst from his tongue, but he knows there is at least one more reason. He lets his brother continue.
"And the third reason pertains to your character. Think of it what you will, little brother, but I have always been curious as to what person I have raised you to be. There have been others, sure: Mother, Mathias, our father, Mathias' father…As much as they are successful in their own rights, they have different ideals. We are human, Emil. There does not exist one single way to think. I will never be able to completely understand what you are thinking, and so, as a sort of…experiment, I have bestowed Leon to you in order to study your behavior. What sort of ruler might you become? What sort of person, I wonder? The Altorienese has been at the mercy of your every whim. Has being given the privilege of having him as your pet done anything to you? Do you feel different in any way, little brother?"
The prince furrows his eyebrows. Has this what his brother had been conducting this entire time? An experiment? Truly, it does not sound like an obscenely selfish one, at least, not in the sense that he might be harmed, but was it really necessary? Did he lose his trust somewhere along the way?
His heart heavier than before and his desire to seek out his pet again, the prince feels like he is at bursting point upon answering his brother's questions. "…I don't feel as lonely when Leon is with me. I have someone to talk to who doesn't just see me as some high-strung prince. I'm simply Leon's master."
The Shadow thoughtfully strokes his brother's hair. "But what does that mean to your pet?"
The prince tilts his head in thought. "That I don't care about his origins—only that he is there for me when I need him and that I can trust him."
A chuckle sounds from the Shadow's amused smile. "So you trust him. I suppose trust is one of those things that really influence one's loyalty. Oaths and friendships can only go so far if one lacks that. It's interesting that you have such trust with him."
In Leon's defense, the prince speaks out at this. "I don't understand why I wouldn't. Leon's a nice person, Lukas. He's smart and obedient, and he only thinks of my well-being."
"Ah, as he should. You chose a nice pet." Underneath those words, the prince wonders if his brother is only humoring his decisions. He wants to speak out at them, but he can never be too certain what is brother is thinking. In any case, he certainly does not want to misinterpret what his brother might be implying. Perhaps he is genuinely relieved that Leon is such a diligent individual. Convincing himself of that thought, the prince reverts to his humble self.
"Thank you, brother," he says. "Are you satisfied with the way I've raised Leon?"
He breathes a sigh of relief when his brother continues to stroke his hair. "Of course I am. With your method, I could not recommend anything different. You've a kind heart."
"Th-Thank you," the prince repeats with a relieved smile. He feels his brother's lips upon his cheek and kisses him in return.
"We should get ready for bed, little brother," Lukas says and begins to unbutton his coat.
"Yes." The prince does the same and dresses into his sleeping wear. Exhausted from traversing through Dotriba, he soon falls asleep, his fair hair poking out from the thick covers and his chest rising and falling with a steady rhythm.
Long since have the inn's guests gone to rest and the guards taken new shifts. A waxing moon shines its fading reflection out on the lake, casting a brilliant glow in deep blue eyes. He makes not a sound when he approaches his slumbering brother, completely out for the night. Spidery fingers comb through thin silky locks, familiarizing themselves with the innocence harnessed beneath.
This was a big waste of time. He should not have had second guesses about this. There was no mistaking the tone in his voice or the reflection of his heart. He curses himself for being wrong, though it also comes as a relief. Now he has to mend his errors. He will have to be careful. Giving word will draw suspicion and most of all, mistrust. Fortunately, all is not lost. The timing can still be perfect. All he has to do is hope that his brother's memories remain the same. He will be watching from the shadows.
Apologies for the long wait. School and other things have taken up a long amount of my time for this story. Thank you for your patience, readers.
Laciport: Anagram of "tropical"