Theodore Laskaris was not a lazy man. He woke up early every morning to work out in the yards, and he kept to his studies diligently, both mundane and magical. These facts were known to everyone in the palace, which made it all the more suspicious when King Alexander Laskaris walked into his son’s rooms at nearly midday and found him apparently asleep in his bed. The King of Lysia glanced around the room, then sighed and focused again on his son, speaking in a loud voice.
“I don’t want to know who this is. Just don’t let the servants see them, if it’s that bad. And come to my private office before the next bell, we need to talk.”
The young man in the bed remained motionless, committed to his strategy. The king was too dignified to shrug, so he just turned and walked away.
As soon as King Alexander was out of earshot, peals of laughter rang out from the bed, both above and below it. Theodore threw off the sheets and stood, while his close friend and companion from the preceding night rolled out from under the bed, entirely naked. Bridget Marlow, daughter and heir to the Duke Marlow, gasped for breath between her giggles, unwilling or unable to stand up. Theodore, in only slightly better control of himself, handed her clothes to her as he spoke.
“Really, he’s right. I know— I know it would be so, so funny to just walk out of here. Believe me, I get it. The scandal— oh, gods. But he’s right, it would be a disaster. Neither of us would be allowed to leave our fathers’ sights ever again.”
Bridget had already started dressing herself, and stood up while she did. “Yeah, you don’t have to tell me. It’s just, gods above, hiding under the bed? Faking sleep? Theo, what on earth made you think he would buy any of that?” The prince threw a sock at her head in place of a reply.
The pair got their amusement under control as they finished dressing in formal apparel. Theo guided Bridget to a concealed door, painted the same beige as the walls, and opened it with a push rather than a handle.
“It’ll take you to the storerooms, and you can find one of the exits from there. This passage was meant to let me escape if there’s a coup attempt, so don’t let your father know, or it’ll be no good!” Theo grinned, knowing as well as she did that as polite as Duke Marlow acted at court, his fondest wish was probably to have a detailed list of the palace’s safety measures. He also knew that Bridget would never tell the man a thing.
She pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I’ll be leaving the city in two days. I’m to administer the estate by myself for a few months in order to ‘prepare me for leadership.' Give my regards to Alan when your little book club meets, and try to stay out of trouble.”
Theo shook his head, both at the impossibility of that task and the absurdity of his friend as a duchess. He ushered her through the door and closed it behind her, then moved to a mirror to tame his curly black hair before he had to present himself to his father. It wasn’t likely to be a fun discussion, and less so now that he’d been caught acting irresponsibly.
***
When Theo knocked on the thick, dark wood of the door to his father’s personal office, there was no reply for several seconds. It wasn’t a power play, the prince reminded himself, and it wasn’t meant to piss him off. King Alexander had a lot on his plate, and might not even remember that he’d asked Theo to visit him. These reassurances were undoubtedly true, and yet Theo still found himself getting more and more annoyed as he waited. Finally, a voice slipped out from behind the door.
“Come in.”
The king looked tired. An aristocrat born and bred, Alexander always appeared to be full of cheer and vitality in public, and even within the walls of the palace. It was only in this study that Theo had ever seen his father allow exhaustion, sadness, or fear to cross his face. It was the first of those emotions that reigned today, as Theo sat in one of the two chairs across from his father’s desk. It was an inch shorter than the otherwise identical chair on the king’s side, which never failed to make Theo feel like a child again.
“Theodore, I’m not going to lecture you about having fun, you know that. You’ve worked hard, and I can’t begrudge you some indulgence. The fact that you had to hide him or her from me, though, that’s what I’m concerned about. Other people care about these things, you know. Personal relationships are half of politics, and the mere appearance of impropriety with the wrong person could ruin your reputation.”
Theodore shifted in his seat. “Yes, Father. It’s just— you’re the King! I’m the crown prince! Don’t we decide what’s proper, and who the wrong people are?” Even as the words left his mouth, Theo knew it was a fruitless argument.
“No, Theodore. It’s that exact attitude that makes me so worried about you. There are political realities, people who need to be kept happy, institutions with their own power and deep-set prejudices. That’s what those fool philosophers don’t understand, the ones you and the Rollof boy love so much. I can’t change the world with a word, and neither can you.”
“They don’t— it’s not— yes, Sir.” Theo sighed. He had almost never won an argument with his father, and never over anything important. “What did you want to talk about? Initially, I mean. You must have had a reason to show up this morning.”
The king pushed back his chair and stood, stretching his long legs. “Walk with me,” he commanded, and Theo had no choice but to obey.
The pair moved through the palace with no clear destination. It was several minutes before Alexander spoke.
“I know you’ve heard this before, son, but you need to start thinking about the future. You’ve been a good prince, I won’t deny it, but a good prince doesn’t always make a good king. You need to appear in society more— no, Theodore, let me finish. You need to actually be present and mingling, not standing in a corner with your boyhood friends. Your grasp of politics is atrocious, and nobody considers you an important figure by yourself. People come up to you because you are my son, not because you’ve established your own power base worth courting. That needs to change, fast.”
The king was interrupted by a clerk racing up to the pair with a sheaf of papers in his hands. Alexander glanced at the seal on top before fixing the bureaucrat with an unamused stare, pointing in the general direction of the seneschal’s office. The clerk hurried off like a dog hit by a child’s pebble.
Theo took the opportunity to speak up. “You’re talking like I’ll be king within a month. You’re hardly sixty, Father! I think we can afford to be a little bit more methodical about this.”
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“‘Methodical’ implies a method, Theodore. If you could show me the slightest bit of proof that you have a plan, that you’re taking steps to position yourself as a true player of the game, even slowly, I will stop talking right now and not speak of this for a year. Can you?”
Theo continued walking in silence, eyes forward.
“I didn’t think so. You’re a man now, and have been for a year. Most noble men your age would be gaining experience and connections in the army right now, or in one of the sects. Your dedication to your studies is admirable, but it’s not a real path you can continue down. The people might tolerate an academic for a king, but they would never accept a wizard.”
“That’s what I am, Father, like it or not! And the people are happy to fill their homes with thaumic lights and gadgets, or ride streetcars powered by magic. The world is changing, and the King ought to change with it.”
“Those lights and gadgets are sold by nice, ordinary men in nice, ordinary stores. All the magic happens in a factory leagues away, and more importantly, that’s where the wizards are too. It would make people uncomfortable, son, and you can’t afford that.”
The royal duo had covered a significant amount of ground by this point, walking aimlessly, and found themselves near the kitchens when they heard a commotion. Both king and prince quickened their step, as two guards at a nearby door rushed to move in front of them, first to investigate the noises.
All four men arrived at a room adjacent to the main dining hall, meant to feed smaller groups of guests. A chair had been knocked over, and the remains of a ceramic bowl lay shattered on the floor. One guard kneeled on the back of an older man dressed in the uniform of a kitchen servant, while another was struggling to clean up the mess.
The kneeling guard’s head snapped up when the King came into view, and he threw up an awkward half-salute from his position restraining the servant.
“He was stealing the silver, Your Majesty. Tried to run when Lisa in the kitchen called him on it, too. Everyone saw it, there’s no doubt. Don’t worry, Your Majesty, we’ll take care of him.” The guard patted the knife on his belt.
Alexander glanced briefly at his son, then turned back to address the guard. “No, it’s alright. Take him to the nearest magistrate, tell them to put him away for a year. We can extend mercy as a consideration for services rendered.”
Alexander took Theo’s arm and guided him away from the scene. He kept sneaking looks at Theo’s face, and whatever he was looking for, he seemed saddened not to find it.
Theo made a deliberate effort to walk at the same cadence and pace as usual, and his face was tight with poorly concealed anger. Finally, it burst out of him.
“Do you want praise? That’s what this is all about, isn’t it. You spare a man’s life on a whim, what, because you thought it would make me happy? What would have happened if I hadn’t walked with you today? The whole thing is disgusting.”
Theo knew he was hurting his father, and he couldn’t find it in him to care. Alexander wasn’t cruel, and he wasn’t stupid. He was, however, the kind of person who would never be able to comprehend that there was anything wrong with deciding the fate of a man’s life based on his mood.
They walked on for what felt like hours, with no more words between them. Theo didn’t dare believe that he had actually forced the king to think about his words, only that they had been sufficiently hostile to make things awkward.
Somehow, without him noticing, they had moved all the way around the palace to Theo’s rooms. They slowed as they approached, then stopped, each man equally unsure how to deal with the situation. Alexander drew himself up, squaring his shoulders.
“I understand that I’ve offended you. Leadership involves uncomfortable situations and decisions, and neither of us has the luxury to turn away from that.”
It was not an apology, but Theo would never have expected one. He nodded, and cleared his throat before speaking, hoping it would remove some of the emotion from his voice.
“I don’t seek to turn away from responsibility, Father. We think differently about what responsibilities are right for a man to have, and I’ll say no more on that. Our earlier discussion, though…I’ve thought about it over the last few minutes, and I have an idea. A deal that we could make.”
His father would appreciate the framing of a deal, Theo thought. It carried the implication of politics and horse trading, an area he always thought Theo was lacking in.
“I want to continue my studies, continue improving myself. You want me to make connections, establish an independent power base.” Theo knew he was stretching the meaning of Alexander’s words, but it was a necessary evil. “I swear that when I’m done, I’ll mingle at parties and trade secrets at court. I’ll even look to marry, if you think it prudent. All I ask is three years. Three years to study at the Fourth University, under Headmistress Tary-“
“No.”
“Think about it, Father! You spoke of connections. The school has only been in business for what, fifteen years? And look at how many of its graduates are in the newspapers every day! The Arnasian bishop, or that vampire hunter around Tatwar. The Count of Trence, he was here at a party not even a month ago! How could I better spend my time than learning alongside some of the brightest sparks on the continent?”
“It’s not safe, and it would set a bad precedent, recognizing that damn school as legitimate. Not to mention what it would do to your reputation, spending your years at an institution that pumps out dime novel heroes by the dozen. No, it’s out of the question.”
“A prince can’t always be safe. Half an hour ago you spoke of joining the army, even. This is safer, and I’ll meet far more interesting people.”
Alexander was leaning forward now. “The wrong sort of interesting! Commoners with unusual tricks, mad geniuses, monsters, and vigilantes. That’s what I’ve heard about the student body, and you can guarantee that everyone who’s anyone has heard the same.”
“You don’t have to say where I am at first. Tell everyone I’m off on a diplomatic mission, that will work for at least a year. It would even be true in a way; I doubt Tarynn pays taxes to you. We’d have time to change the narrative, to have people loyal to the crown start talking about how prestigious it is. My friends can do the same. By the time word gets out that the Prince of Lysia is attending, that will be just one more mark of pride for the school, not one of shame for me.”
The king rubbed his chin, considering. “It’s not such a bad plan, I’ll give you that. But the base idea is still terrible. Even if we could deal with the reputational issue, you’d still be spending three years out in the country, away from civilization. You’d have few friends at court by the time you returned, and I’m not convinced about the danger. Tarynn is…unstable. The stories don’t get it across very well. That woman is running a school because it amuses her to do so, and the instant that it stops doing that, who knows what she could do?”
Theodore pressed his advantage. “You’re reaching, Father, and you know it. My safety is my own to risk, if I would like to. You said it yourself, I’m a man now. My true friends will remain so even while I’m away, and I can always regain those more easily swayed by changes of circumstance. You have no true objections, you’re just scared of the unknown. That’s not a valid reason to avoid doing anything.”
Alexander sighed. “If we were to make this deal…IF! I am not agreeing yet. There are practicalities to consider. You would have to come back to Regos at every available break.”
“Yes.”
“You would be accompanied to the University by a detachment of soldiers.”
“If you believe that to be necessary.”
“You would— wait. You just thought of this idea now, yes?”
“That’s right.”
The king threw up his hands. “Well, there you are! The harvest season ends in just a week or two. That’s when the royal education institutions start classes, and I’d bet it’s the same for the Fourth University. There’s no time to make overtures and get them interested in you. And you can’t just show up, you haven’t been invited.”
Theo hadn’t considered that. In fact, it had been something of a lie when he claimed to have thought of the idea during their walk; it had really appeared half-formed in his head only seconds before he had spoken.
“I’ll write a letter, then. They’ll accept me, they’d be fools not to. Ah…you wouldn’t happen to know where it is, though, would you?”
The subject of the University had come up in casual conversation with Alan a few months ago, but its mailing address was not among the things they had discussed.
Alexander looked pained, but didn’t protest further. “Go talk to one of the scribes. We have staff for a reason. And Theodore? You will hold up your end of the bargain.”
With that, he walked away, leaving Theo to ponder the fact that he had just committed three years of his life to a place he knew almost nothing about.