Wern, Fir of Marla: 29 Xiven

The march to Kayin’s room was filled with an awkward silence. Kayin didn’t look anywhere but ahead, and the guard didn’t ask any questions, though there were probably hundreds. There weren’t any servants in the hallways, no one to ask about what was going on.

Why did he throw that? What were those things in the jar—and why were they with the food? Did he actually hurt her, or was she being dramatic? Maybe he was like Prince Sahtin after all. He didn’t have a mom to raise him, so maybe he was just meant to be like this….

When they reached the door, Kayin hesitated with his brows knitted together.

“What are Bestas?” Kayin decided to ask. He stared at a sliver of extra skin by a fingernail, and began to pick at it furiously.

“Oh, they’re, um, bugs, Your Grace,” said the guard. If Kayin remembered correctly, he was just recently promoted to his position. They had seen one another a couple times before in passing, but never officially met. “They fly and have stingers. Their poison adds a meaty flavor to soups.”

“Poison?” Kayin echoed, finally looking up. “You mean venom? Poison is bad if you eat it, but venom isn’t.” As a last minute add-on, he said, “We just learned that in herbalism last week.”

“Oh, right,” the guard said, nodding. “You’re right, Your Majesty. I get them mixed up. Yes, the Bestas venom is what we add to soups.” The satisfaction he would have felt for being right was short-lived.

“Venom—so if you get stung by those, it’s bad,” he said. The guard nodded. How bad could it be if they used them in cooking, though? And kept them alive?

“To some, Young Prince. There are people, like my sister, who are immune to the venom and don’t feel it.” So maybe Sepik was being dramatic. “My sister is one of the cooks. Her name is Enil, Your Grace.”

“Oh! I know her!” Kayin recognized, looking up. The young man smiled. “She makes really good flamed char.”

Family recipe from our grandmother, Your Grace,” was the guard’s answer. “Putting the puree back in the shell of the char keeps extra flavor.” And it made sense. The char was an isopod whose exterior shell was a perfect bowl shape for one of the best tasting broths out there.

The guard continued, “Um, I think, Prince Kayin, you’re supposed to go in there, now. And, um…wait.”

Kayin stared at his door with slouched shoulders, but nodded. As he touched the door knob to pull it open, he stopped and looked to his escort.

“What’s your name?”

As if honored by the question, the leather-clad man straightened up.

“Patrolman Ruyer at your service, Your Grace.”

“You just started, right?”

“Yes, Your Majesty. The newest of the bunch.” Kayin nodded to his answers, then slipped inside his room, still as uncomfortable as ever.

If Ruyer was the newest guard, then who was that woman he saw in the pantry?

Thern, Fir of Marla: 29 Xiven

Maybe Sepik wasn’t being dramatic. To say Tidesa was furious would be an understatement. She didn’t raise her voice, but she might as well have. Even when Kayin was reduced to tears, she continued lecturing him.

“When I say consequences beyond your imagination, do you think I’m exaggerating?” He did at the time, but now he knew. Was this how Prince Sahtin started? Maybe he was just an ornery kid, but then threw a jar of Bestas when he was too angry to think, and then he just kept being evil. Maybe he couldn’t help it, that was just what happened. Kayin wiped a hot tear away from his cheek as he stared into his bedroom fireplace. He’d been in his room for a full day with food only delivered by the guard that remained outside his door. It was like he was a prisoner.

An evil prisoner that hurt people.

“A-am I evil?” he asked when Tidesa finally gave him a moment to respond. She let out a loud sigh. The weight of his bed shifted, and she appeared in his peripheral vision, sitting beside him.

“No, Kayin. You’ve been acting out. Acting mean. That doesn’t make you evil. It means you need to be more thoughtful.” Her voice wasn’t as stern before, but it was still laced with anger he didn’t want to challenge this time. “Kayin, look at me.” It took him a full minute, but eventually he peeked up, sniffling. Tidesa’s eyes stared intensely. “You need to understand that if you were anyone else, if you had done that to anyone else—and if I wasn’t there….” That was all the pressure he could handle. Kayin returned to staring at his hands in his lap.

Instead of detailing whatever horrible punishment he would have received if he was still a commoner, Tidesa spared him.

“Kayin,” she started again, “as far as anyone is concerned, it was a complete accident. I need you to repeat that.”

“It…it was a complete accident?”

She hesitated before continuing, “You were going to grab that jar to study for herbalism, but the buzzing scared you, and it fell out of your hands.” Kayin slowly turned to stare at her when he repeated her words exactly. Tidesa nodded.

“What I did was really, really bad,” Kayin said quietly. She nodded again.

“When Princess Sepik addresses you next, you’ll apologize for putting her in danger, but not a moment before.” He nodded. That was the least he could do. “And until then you will help prepare for the ball.”

“What ball?” Kayin wiped the last of his tears away and looked back to Tidesa.

“Ah.” Tidesa drew a breath in preparation. “Well, she’s—to make up for yesterday, Princess Sepik has requested to throw a ball in a couple weeks.” She didn’t seem to register his confusion until he made a throwing motion with his arm. “A ball as in a fancy party with lots of food and dancing. Like in those stories you’ve been reading.” She gestured to the small stack of books on his nightstand.

“Oh.” In those stories, people bore Cigam and were able to decorate rooms with just the power of their thoughts, or hide messes by willing them to be invisible, or grow flowers in places they otherwise wouldn’t. In this world, it would probably just be a lot of dusting.

“You’ll work with Arill to make the preparations. And if anyone asks, you volunteered. You’re happy to make up for yesterday.” His nod to her instructions took a little more effort this time.

“Do I have to be watched by a guard all the time still?” Tidesa was the one to look away at this question. The way she pursed her lips made his chest ache. With all the lies they were about to spread, about him being afraid of Bestas—did she think he was dangerous? Maybe he was evil after all….

“One other lesson learned from yesterday, Kayin, is that you and Princess Sepik are….” She sighed. “You’re too important. You should have had assigned protection detail from the start. So no, Kayin. You’re going to keep your personal guard at all times. Princess Sepik has one, too.”

A soft cry escaped from his lips. “I won’t hurt her, I swear!” Kayin slid off his bed onto the cold stone to try to get her attention now. “I promise, I’m sorry! I really didn’t think that it would—I didn’t think that—I-I’ll say I’m sorry, and that I didn’t mean to—”

“This is non-negotiable, Kayin.” At least she looked at him when she said this. Though her expression wasn’t one he’d seen her wear before, a sort of uncertainty. “This is not because of what you did. It’s…time. Time has snuck up on us. You’re getting older. You need the protection.” Tidesa rose from his bed, now, too, ignoring his questioning expression. “And I have…much to prepare. I still need to pack.”

“Pack—you’re leaving? Is this because of me?” His eyes widened.

Tidesa shook her head. “Not in that way, Kayin. I’ve fallen behind in my preparations.” Were they back to cryptic non-answers to his questions already?

“Preparations for what?” he asked flatly.

Tidesa cocked her head to the side, offering him a small smile. “I have some friends to visit.” Oh. It was hard to imagine her sitting around a table with a bunch of other adults, trading jokes and stories. Did she have a Dania, too?

“When will you be back?”

Tidesa began to make her way to the door of his room.

“My initial plans bring me back in time for the ball.” Before he could ask another question, she pointed at him. “I know you will behave while I’m gone. But I want you to remember this feeling you have, Kayin. This guilt. Think more, act less—especially when you are angry.”

“I will.” And he meant it, too.

Frirn, Sir of Marla: 29 Xiven

For the next two weeks, Kayin kept the guilt he felt for throwing that jar at Sepik at the top of his mind. The actual guilt dissipated quite fast when he began reading the To Do lists that Sepik gave specifically for him versus the To Do lists for the servants, but to keep himself behaving like Tidesa told him to, he just kept thinking of how awful it felt to be responsible for hurting someone. No matter how annoying or petty they were.

The castle felt oddly empty. Sepik kept to herself. She recovered quickly from whatever the venom from the Bestas did—if it actually affected her at all—and ignored him completely, without needing a prompting from Tidesa. But with all the preparations for the ball left specifically for him (scrubbing the windows, re-arranging the entryway to be a dance floor, putting up fresh candles in the candelabras that he couldn’t even reach without jumping), Kayin was left without any free time to see Tae or Enna, or even to read.

To avoid saying more snide things under his breath by accident, Kayin opted to keep his distance from the other servants that helped prepare for this giant party. The castle underwent quite the transformation—at least the main areas of the first floor. The servants spent their time hanging linens from the ceiling to give the place a more elegant feel, rolling out fresh rugs, even polishing the wooden furniture or sanding away imperfections in the stone. It almost looked like a new castle by the time they’d brought in the fresh bouquets of wildflowers the day before.

“Final check of my list, Prince Kayin,” requested a servant that specialized in repairing linens. His bow was lackluster, but probably more due to age than any sense of comfort around Kayin. No matter how much time he spent around the common areas of the castle, no one relaxed around him.

Kayin shrugged. “Thanks, Proc. The table cloth thing was the last on the list.”

“You’re so gracious, Your Majesty, for putting this ball together for the Princess!”

“I volunteered. I’m happy to,” Kayin repeated for the umpteenth time. Proc gave another half-bow before dismissing himself.

Kayin gave one last look around the dining room, a final check to make sure the list was complete, before starting in that same direction, only to pause at the sound of whispers.

“No, he said the same thing to me,” came a feminine voice. “The Princess still hasn’t spoken to him. I don’t think any of this was his idea at all. It's not like they've ever said a kind word to each other before.”

Proc was a little more careful with his own whispers: “So they are lying! This felt forced. I knew it was all a farce.” Kayin’s stomach didn’t even have time to twist into knots before Patrolman Ruyer came back from the other side of the room, carrying the chest requested of him.

“This is the last, Your Majesty. Shall we return to your chambers?” The sound of the guard’s voice scared off any more whispers from servants, so Kayin reluctantly agreed to be locked away in his room until the start of the ball.

So much for not looking like an evil prince.