ATTENTION READERS! I messed up the chapters while posting by accidentally skipping one in my Word doc! The chapter I posted two days ago was actually Chapter 11. I am so sorry! This is the CORRECT Chapter 10, and I moved Chapter 11 to its correct spot. Again, my deepest apologies!
Fiyero hated Wednesdays. Wednesdays were the day his grandfather held a weekly court with all the leaders of the Vinkus. It was set up as a social event, with socializing and food, but with men only talking about politics. The wives of the leaders would be scattered about, but also talking politics. The conversation was too serious and time-sensitive for it to be a true social event.
June and July were the busiest months, since the various leaders and dignitaries took staggering vacations throughout August, and it was the final time they'd all be together to discuss the most pressing issues.
Currently, he was in his room, getting dressed in his royal uniform. He hated the starched pants and tight sash, but didn't mind his agbada robe. He grabbed his cap from his desk and shoved it onto his head before marching out.
Even though people were already gathered in the throne room, he was still early for the official start time. He stopped in the doorway and bowed to his grandparents before immediately being swept away into government conversations. He was able to gauge the room and gravitated towards the economic discussions. He hated talking about economics, but out of all the topics, it was the one he hated the least.
Unfortunately, once he finally found a conversation he could be a part of, his grandfather called him over. Hiding his annoyance, he knelt next to his grandfather at a low table that was covered in a large map. Okay, geography. Not his strongest suit, but he could work with it.
"The people of Kellswater are complaining of the increase of algae in the Vinkus River," the Magistrate of Kellswater reported gravely.
"Could it be coming from the Munchkin River?" the Chieftain asked. "Or the Gillikin River?"
"No, sir. The Vinkus River flows eastward into the Munchkin River. And the Gillikin River runs parallel to the Vinkus River, but never merges. We have a team of phycologists investigating, but results aren't happening as fast as the people would like."
"Has Munchkinland complained of the algae?"
"Not to my knowledge. I don't believe it's affecting them."
"Let's try to move fast to keep it that way. I don't want to have any quarrels with Munchkinland at the moment. Not when we're about to –"
"Vjorn Filith, the High Chancellor!"
The Chieftain looked up as the High Chancellor strode up to him, clicked his heels, and bowed. "Your Grandness."
"Chancellor."
"Apologies for disturbance, but I bring news from Ev."
Fiyero wondered if he'd be able to slip away unnoticed. His grandfather became so engrossed in a new conversation that he took his chance to escape. His attempt was successful, and he continued to walk around, noticing his mother and sister sitting out on the terrace.
"Mother. Sister," he greeted them as he sat down at the small table with them.
"Son," Amalie nodded formally.
"Brother," Hannalyn added formally, but added a smirk.
"Please tell me you're discussing something more interesting than what's going on inside," Fiyero practically begged.
"I was just telling Hanna about what Kovitie and Ladie told me at the dinner party last month," Amalie said, eyeing her daughter.
"The Lord and Lady Juctíse's party?"
"The very one. Kovitie was telling me about their nephew, and how he's double majoring in law and logic at Shiz University in the fall."
"I suppose after being turned down by the princess numerous times, you're only choice is education at a university in a different country," Fiyero said pointedly.
"That man is such a dud," Hanna muttered.
The High Princess glanced up. "What was that, Hanna?"
"I said 'he's such a stud'."
Amalie rolled her eyes, and Hanna shoved a piece of cake into her mouth. "Hannalyn –"
"Amma, I told you. When an appropriate man comes, that is not a dud, nor one of this one's friends," she idly gestured to Fiyero, "I will consider the prospect of marriage. All of the people you forcibly introduce me to or tell me about have something wrong with them."
"What's wrong with Kel?" Fiyero asked.
"He's your friend."
"So if he wasn't my friend, you'd consider marrying him?"
"I'd consider liking him."
"That's unfair."
"It's the principle of the matter. If I married one of your friends, he'd always be torn between our marriage and your friendship. It's unfair to everyone involved."
"While flawed in so many ways, I suppose I can understand your feelings," Fiyero said, and he could tell his sister was fighting the urge to slap him.
"Instead of talking about my many marriage prospects, why don't we discuss yours? Unless you'd rather go back inside."
"I would rather eat glass."
"Fiyero, so dramatic," Amalie said, shaking her head. "But since the subject was brought up, it is a discussion worth having."
Here we go again, Fiyero thought.
"Fiyero, as custom and tradition stands, it would be proper of you to marry Sarima."
"I am her brother-in-law and the uncle to her children. There's no way anyone would see me marrying her as 'proper'."
"It has nothing to do with the family tree, and more to do with proper political viewings. Sarima needs a husband, and her children need a father… figure. And if Sarima were to remarry outside the family, we wouldn't be able to offer her any royal protection. The children would still be protected as the heirs, of course, but Sarima would have to leave."
"So this is about protecting Sarima."
"This is about protecting the mother of the future Chieftain and protecting our interests in the Vinkus and beyond."
"Is it my duty to marry Sarima?"
"No, it's not. But it is strongly encouraged."
"I don't think you'll be expected to consummate the marriage, if that's what you're worried about," Hannalyn said seriously.
Fiyero let his intrusive thoughts win and pinched his sister, hard. "That's actually disgusting."
"I'm being serious," the princess said, rubbing her arm.
"You're expecting me to be a part of a surface-level, loveless marriage that's just to create a mist of stability over the people's eyes?"
"So you do understand," Amalie said.
"I understand that you don't care about my feelings, as always. What about Sarima? Does she want this?"
"She wants what's best for the country. She's always been dutiful. She was and can still be the perfect wife."
Fiyero stood, suddenly changing his tune about the inside conversations. He pushed in his chair and left without a word to the ladies. He wondered if there was any way he could slip out and not get reprimanded for it later. He noticed his grandfather still talking to the High Chancellor, and decided that he wasn't upset enough to risk it. He quietly resumed his seat, noticing the subtle side-eye the Chieftain shot him, but nothing else was said, so he didn't bring anything else up.
"What if they try to attack the mines? Can the docks be closed?" the Chieftain asked, pointing to a circled point on the map.
"Not closed, Your Grandness, but our current cannon positions are best protecting the border. I don't think we need to take them out of formation," the High Chancellor said.
"Let's keep them where they are, but keep an eye on the Quadling militants. I don't want any funny business, but I don't any to be unprepared either, just in case."
"Of course, Your Grandness," the Chancellor nodded, rolling up the map and standing. He clocked his heels and bowed before marching away.
The Chieftain turned to Fiyero. "Where did you sneak off to?"
"Oh. I thought you didn't notice."
"Of course I noticed. I just couldn't break my conversation. So where did you sneak off to?"
"I was outside with Mother and Hanna." He didn't say what they were discussing, and he prayed his grandfather wouldn't ask.
Thankfully, he didn't, and let Fiyero just sit and listen for the rest of the meetings. Finally, the crowds of people started to disperse, freeing Fiyero from his unofficial duty of "sitting and looking pretty".
Fiyero spent the rest of the day avoiding everyone, which was rather easy in the big castle and surrounding grounds. The only thing that got him to show his face again was dinner being announced.
"The Mother Iyoba has written to request that she host the Sebatsi Debutante Ball next month," Baxina brought up casually.
"That means that she's already planning on doing it, and she's just giving you a heads-up," Marilott hummed.
"At least it's one less thing we have to worry about."
"I assume that it's going to be in Nether How."
"You assumed correctly."
"Is our attendance mandatory?" Hannalyn asked.
"Only if we make it mandatory," Amalie said, leveling her daughter a look. "Perhaps you and your brother attending will give us a reason to have a royal wedding."
"It has been a while since the last royal wedding, and the people need a rejuvenation," Baxina said.
Fiyero glanced at Sarima. The last royal wedding to take place was almost fourteen years ago; her marriage to his older brother. Yes, it had been a while. And it seemingly fell to him to break the wedding-less cycle.
He looked for any type of reaction from her, but she simply sat there, staring at her plate as she shoved forkfuls of mashed potatoes into her mouth.
After dinner, Fiyero did his usual routine of wandering the halls because he had nothing better to do. He heard voices coming from the throne room and he peeked his head inside.
Irji, Manek, and Nor were sprawled on the floor, engaged in an intense game of dominoes. It looked like Manek was winning, and Irji was trying to teach Nor how to count and add properly, which elicited an indignant response from the nine-year-old.
Fiyero watched, ready to intervene if things turned violent. Thankfully, the children solved their own issues and calmed down. It always surprised him when they had their mature moments. Though, he figured he had to expect it. Ever since their father's death, the other adults made it seem like they had to grow up quicker, especially Irji. Fiyero was holding down most of the official duties until Irji came of age, but Irji still got the message that he had to step it up.
A messenger came and handed Fiyero a note. The prince skimmed through it with a playful smile. Kel was reminding him of the shooting party he was hosting. Not that he had forgotten.
The next morning, Fiyero walked to Kel's estate with Hannalyn, Kháteryne, and Hunfter in tow. He wasn't aware that Kel's mother had invited Hannalyn and Kel had invited Khát. He had no idea why his friend invited his cousin, but he didn't want to question it.
When they got there, a staff member showed them to the back gardens where the party was already set up. Everyone was outside, mingling, and conversations came to a brief halt to greet the royals.
The woman stayed near the large pavilion as the men chose their rifles and set off to the far side of the forest. Fiyero pretended not to notice Kel inconspicuously staring at his cousin. Hunfter mingled with the other hunting dogs before the hunt call sounded.
After two hours, the men returned with their hunting gains. Kel proudly showed off his four kills, mostly to impress Khát.
"I thought you were supposed to be pining after my sister," Fiyero teased, nudging his friend's arm.
"She hardly pays me any attention. At this point, I think I like teasing her more than actually flirting with her."
He decided not to tell his friend what his sister said earlier. And he didn't see the point. If Hanna was really annoyed with Kel, she would have told their grandparents, and Fiyero would've had to find a new best friend. Plus, Kel didn't seem genuinely upset that Hanna wasn't giving him a chance. But then again, neither would Khát. "Well, I should probably tell you that Khát is engaged."
Kel's face fell. "Oh."
He sympathetically patted his shoulder. "Sorry, man."
He shrugged and went with the rest of the men.
"What happened to him?" Gyles asked, coming up to Fiyero and leaning down to scratch his dog's ears.
"Another jab to his romantic heart. He'll survive," Fiyero said. He walked over to the pavilion, where Hanna and Khát were talking with Kel's mother and Gyles's older sister, Defi.
As soon as he got close enough, he realized that he was about to walk right into a conversation of birthing labor tricks. But he was too close to walk away, since he was spotted.
"Prince Fiyero," Kel's mother as she stood, and the others followed suit.
Fiyero smiled and nodded, and the women sat. He sat between his sister and Defi, who was caressing her extremely rounded stomach.
"I'm fine, Lady Bijon," Defi said, sounding a bit breathless as she shifted her weight. "I wanted to come. I needed to get out of the house."
"An expecting mother in your condition shouldn't have traveled this far from home," Lady Bijon tutted.
"It's just five miles down a smooth road. Nzer was in no position to argue with me. I told him that either I attend, or his first child will also be his last."
"Defi!"
"Apologies." The smirk on her face told them she wasn't sorry.
Socializing continued into the evening until everyone dispersed home. Kel offered to have his carriage bring Fiyero, Hanna, and Khát back to the castle, and Fiyero didn't object.
When the three returned, the children were waiting for them on the steps.
"Uncle Yero! How was the hunt?" Manek asked as they ran up to them. "Did you kill any animals?"
"No! That's so mean! Uncle Yero would never kill any cute animals!" Nor frowned.
"Of course he has to kill them. How else are we supposed to eat?"
"Other people can kill them, but not Uncle Yero!"
"I'm afraid that I didn't have any kills today. Uncle Yero is a terrible shot," Fiyero said, lifting his niece into his arms. He looked up the stairs to see Sarima watching him, her face telling him what her words didn't.
"Drat!" Manek pouted, stomping his foot.
"Next time, bud."
"Can I go on the next hunt with you, Uncle Yero?" Irji asked, bouncing excitedly.
"No," was Sarima's loud, unilateral answer that startled everyone.
"But Amma –"
"Absolutely not." She marched down the stairs and grabbed Irji's hand.
"But I want to!"
"You will not be going on any hunts anytime soon."
"But it's my duty –"
"It's your duty to obey your mother and do as she says without argument."
Irji looked from his mother to his uncle. Fiyero shook his head, unable to help as he put Nor down. The heir looked back at his mother. "Yes, Amma."
Sarima softened slightly and kissed her son's hair. She whispered something and ushered him back inside, motioning for Manek and Nor to follow her.
Hanna looked up at her brother before following the four inside.
"She still blames me," Fiyero said to Khát once she appeared at his side.
"What happened to Eszno wasn't your fault, Fiyero," Khát said. It wasn't a secret of how the family, and most in the country, viewed Fiyero's role in the prince's death.
"Tell that to Sarima. And even if you did, she won't believe you," he sighed, running his hand down his face. "The memorial is next week."
"How long has it been?"
"Four years. And they insist on having the memorial service on the anniversary of his death."
Khát hummed. "And you expect Sarima to be difficult about it?"
"I expect her to be impossible. I except Amma to be inconsolable. And I expect Father to try and jam me up with royal duties. Am I expecting too much?"
The hum turned into a laugh. "No. I think you're right on track."
Fiyero offered a small smile. He didn't want to be right, but knowing what to expect from his family the upcoming week would help him prepare.