They sat at a grand table, feasting and laughing and generally dirtying the throne room with their presence. A gaggle - 32 - of supposedly potential heroes wearing strange clothing.

I didn’t mind them. No, both composure and the foreboding prophecy uttered by father occupied my expression and thoughts, respectively. Well, mostly.

The words replayed over and over in my mind.

“Time when hearts turn bitter, dreams become nightmares, and the kingdom itself is torn apart.”

It could mean anything, and that was the most disturbing thing.

Will our fair kingdom be beset by famine, and the heroes will have some sort of solution before the hunger drives neighbour to turn on neighbour - could the ‘dreams’ of prosperity turn to ‘nightmares’ of famine?

Maybe the nobility, or even the merchants, or possibly the peasants rise up in arms against the crown, and the heroes would strike them down - the hearts of the subjects turned ‘bitter’ for whatever reason?

More pressingly, would the barbarians of the south seek to strike and pillage northwards into the kingdom’s breadbasket, only to be repelled by the heroes’ efforts - the ‘kingdom itself torn apart’ should they fail?

And what danger could all three of those disasters bring, as the prophesy mentioned one of each? How will hearts turn bitter, dreams become nightmares, and the kingdom tear apart, all at once?

And what would happen to me afterwards!?

Would father the King deign to save the ‘spare’ princess should the risk be great enough? Would my brother the prince let sentimentality for me get in the way of a more pragmatic solution? Would my sister, the favoured princess, spare me a thought as she escaped to secure the future of our family?

Would-

Would that damn otherworlder stop staring at me as if I was meat on the market!?

Hero or not, that was plain disgusting. Degenerate, even! The coward averted his gaze as I moved my head in his direction, and so did his fellows who were doing much the same beforehand. They all busied themselves with the grand meal before them, biting into steaks and meat still on the bone alike.

Father leaned over on his throne slightly, in my direction.

“Lily, dear, why aren’t you meeting the fledgling heroes? They’re about your age, is something wrong?”

His voice was kind, almost affectionate. He sounded genuinely curious. My eyes scanned the throne room for any excuse.

Eventually, they settled on my sister charming a group of the new heroes sitting besides her. Across the room my brother was doing much the same, showing off his sword to a couple of them like a newly knighted squire bragging to his still-learning friends.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

“Erika and Fredrick seem to be doing a fine job of entertaining them, father. I’m content to watch.” Would that be enough of a reason? “I- the prophecy weighs heavy on my mind, as well. I fear that I’d bring the mood down if I engaged the heroes in conversation.”

Father let out a soft hum before returning to his spot, centred on the throne. He stayed silent for just enough that I hoped he would leave it at that and let me stay at the throne’s side.

Then he spoke in a low voice.

“You might have a point, Lily.”

I might!?

“I do, father?”

He gives a grim nod in response.

“You might. In fact, you do.” His grip on the armrest nearest to me tightens. I stop myself from taking a step away. “The prophesied future is one most dire, and yet we are holding a feast - as is tradition - but a feast nonetheless. This action does not convey urgency, does it?”

Well... yes. Holding a feast is usually something done in celebration, not before a prolonged struggle. Though I suppose that the original purpose of the event, before it became tradition, would have been to perhaps welcome the new heroes? Acclimate them? To celebrate their arrival?

I let my gaze wash over the room once more. Most of the heroes have given themselves over to merriment and boasted genuine smiles and excited tones, but there were a couple withdrawn and hunched over their food.

For some reason they were overlooked by their fellows, maybe they were the ones that could use my presence. It’s not like they were the ones to gaze at me in such an uncivilised way as their peers-

“Lily?”

Oh Gods, he must have asked me something!

“Yes father!”

“As I thought.”

As he thought? As he thought!? What exactly did I miss, what did I just agree with?

Idiot! Letting daydreams take me during such an important moment. During such an important event! Did he even ask me anything? I don’t even know!

Why is he getting up?

Why is father getting up!?

His ascension from the throne is instantly seen by the servants who stop dead in their tracks, the sudden stop of movements alerts my brother and sister, who pause their tales and boasts to see what is going on before they too fall silent. Then, after far longer than should be necessary, the noise from the heroes sizes as all turn to face the King of the Kingdom of Fiklargitas.

Father stands there motionless for a couple seconds.

I could hear my own breathing.

“Heroes.” Father nodded in acknowledgment. “I have... come to a realisation. This banquet in your honour, as sincere as it may be, does not do justice to my kingdom’s oncoming plight. I shall rectify this.”

His gaze pierced through the crowd. Even I was in awe, and I was standing besides and behind him.

“The reward for your service: anything in my power to grant. Gold. Power. Lands. Titles.” He nodded again as I did my best not to stare at him in incredulity. Giving... giving them such things!? We don’t even know ‘what’ they’ll be doing yet! “And nigh anything else. I swear this on my name as King Alexander Fikser, ruler of the realm of Fiklargitas and all it encompasses.”

Standing behind him, boring my eyes into the back of his head, I could catch the less-than-wanted looks some of the heroes were giving me from the corner of my vision. Erika and Fredrick were looking at father with a mixture of concern and surprise.

Father nodded his head once more. “I hope that helps illustrate exactly how dire the situation may be, and how much we appreciate your help, heroes.” I could hear the smile return to his voice. “Now, enjoy the merriment! I’m sure your training will begin soon.”

And with that, and a chuckle, he sat back down on his throne.

More eyes turned in my direction.

Unwelcome eyes.

After a moment, the noise slowly built up again and the heroes returned to their banquet. I excused myself from the event and skulked out a servant’s entrance.