Chapter Three: Alexander

Alexander had been offered his pick of the available chambers in the royal family's wing of the castle. He chose one overlooking the castle's west garden.
Right now, the attendants were busy airing out the room and making up the bed with fresh linens.

It felt so strange to watch other people doing things for him. He'd asked the attendants if they wanted any help. Some of them gave him strange looks, but the senior chambermaid, a plump smiling woman named Melangell, laughed it off. "Oh, good heavens no, Your Highness, we've everything well in hand here."

The attendants finished with the room and left. Alexander sat down in a gray brocade armchair near the gray stone fireplace and looked around the room.

It was definitely a step up from his Spartan little room at Manannan's house. Here, the curtains on the windows and the bed were made from fine gray-green silk, and all the furniture was beautifully carved from the finest woods. But there wasn't much of anything in the room to suggest anything about who lived there now.

The massive walnut wardrobe, large enough to seat three people comfortably, was empty. The clothes Alexander had on at the moment, a borrowed tunic and trousers made from good-quality homespun, were all he had for now in the way of clothes. But the castle tailors had immediately taken his measurements as soon as he'd finally left the king's - sorry, his father's - chambers, so Alexander guessed that the wardrobe wouldn't be empty for long.

His ragged old slave clothes had been consigned to the ragbag. The fire would also have been a suitable fate for them, he thought.

There weren't any books to fill the shelves just yet, but Alexander wondered off-hand if the Castle Daventry library had any books of Llewdor legends among them. The only effects he had sitting on the shelf next to the chair were the motley potion ingredients, the magic teleporting stone, and Manannan's old wand.

He'd thought about taking The Sorcery of Old, but the enormous volume of crackling vellum would have been excess weight to carry. So instead he'd copied out the spells he'd found to be of use onto an old scrap of parchment.

He'd given the pirates' treasure chest over to the castle treasury. It had seemed the only decent thing to do with it.

Outside the room, Alexander could hear the hustle and bustle of the castle as the servants and advisors went about their business. The mood seemed to have brightened considerably in the last several hours, now that he and Rosella were home and the king had been cured from his heart attack.

Alexander didn't feel quite ready to go out and mingle with the rest of the castle, even though he knew half the kingdom was dying to meet him. See what he looked like. And hear where he'd been.

He leaned his head back against the chair and let out a sigh.

He should be happy, overwhelmingly happy. And he was. And yet, at the same time, he couldn't help but feel confused and overwhelmed. He'd been feeling that way ever since he stepped into the oracle's cave in Llewdor. In that instant, everything that Alexander thought he knew about himself had been turned upside down.

All his life, he'd known himself as Gwydion the slave boy from Llewdor. Now he was Alexander, a beloved son and brother, and a prince of Daventry.

Somehow, it didn't feel like either the name or the title fit him just right yet. More than once already, someone had called his name three times before he realized that they were speaking to him.

And he still expected to see Manannan or his odious black cat appear from around the corner…

"Mrrow?"

Alexander turned and jumped nearly a foot in the air. A black cat wearing a fine brocade collar had wandered into the room. It looked at him curiously, tail twitching.

"Raven, is that you?" a voice asked. Melangell came back into the room. "Oh, there you are," she said indulgently as she picked the cat up. "This is Raven, Your Highness, she's one of the castle pets. She's a good girl, she won't bother you none…" She stopped when she saw Alexander's face. "Oh, I see. That wizard that took you had a black cat, didn't he?"

Alexander nodded, not knowing what else to say.

Melangell studied him for a moment. "It must be a big change, realizing who you are, going from one life to another," she said matter-of-factly. "Probably a bit of a shock."

"It is," Alexander said.

Melangell smiled sympathetically. "Your father had to adjust too. He wasn't born a prince. He was a knight, a king's man. They say he took some time to adjust to castle life. But he did. And so will you. Just take all the time you need."

"That's kind of you to say so."

"I can take Raven elsewhere, if she bothers you."

"Oh, no, that's fine," Alexander said quickly.

Melangell set Raven back down on the floor and left the room. Alexander could hear her calling out orders to some of the other chambermaids to get to work on cleaning the rooms in the south wing.

Raven began rubbing against Alexander's legs, purring.

Alexander looked at the cat for a moment. Then, slowly, he picked her up.

Raven curled up against him, nuzzling her head into his chin and continuing to purr.

Slowly, as Alexander scratched Raven on her neck, the confused feelings started to go away, just a little bit.

xKQx

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