Springtime in Meja wasn’t much better than the winter. The air still nipped at a hint of possible frost, and the green leaves and colorful flowers still wouldn’t be back for several weeks. Henry didn’t mind too much, but he hated the fact that life had still not resumed outside the castle walls. He missed the calls of merchants, the music of the many street performers, and the loud murmur of crowds all distinct voices but nothing to be understood. More than anything, he missed joining the crowds and feeling like life was actually lively. For now, he contented himself to being the heir apparent and helping to keep his kingdom running smoothly.
Henry turned his attention to the farmer in front of him. The man had been prattling on about a land dispute and a beet harvest being “stolen” by his neighbor. Henry only gave the man half an ear, as his mind had been settled on the matter since he had given the man an audience; the rest of his attention was spent looking over the reports they had been given about some great disturbance in Sirene. It had only been a week since his cousin had turned 18, and it sounded like she had her hands quite full. Perhaps he should move his visit up a bit and go and help her sort out whatever new political mess they had on their hands.
“Master Thomas, what exactly is it that you wish for me to do?” Henry finally said to the haggard farmer. “As you know, we cannot interfere with a man’s right to sell his goods at whatever price he choses.” He made sure to choose a gentle tone, soothing but not soft. Farmers hated being treated like they couldn’t handle the situation themselves; ironic, given that he was here asking for help, but a man needs to have his pride after all.
“Well, your highness, I ask that you simply take a portion of the profits that he made using crops grown on my land?” The farmer spoke with a solid lisp, more of a whistle really, as he was missing several teeth. Many of the working class seemed to be missing teeth or other parts of their bodies, mostly lost to fights with each other, which Henry found both sad and amusing.
“Can you prove that the land is yours? Have you secured the charter for your land?”
The farmer grimaced and said, “No.”
“Do you have a record of how many beets were sold that were harvested from that small portion of land?”
The farmer’s frown deepened. “No.” he said.
“Well Master Thomas, you cannot prove to me that it was your land, you cannot tell me how much was sold, and your plan was to simply have me tax your neighbor for however much you asked?” Henry gave him a full smile and stood up straight to face him.
“But your highness!” The farmer began. Henry raised up a gloved hand to stop him mid-sentence. This was his favorite part of being in charge: being able to find better solutions than what was presented to him.
“Here is what I will do,” Henry said, making sure he would not be interrupted, “I am going to personally buy your harvest at full market price, and I will add 10% to compensate you for the harvest you ‘lost.’ Bring the harvest here, with a bill of sale, and I will see to it that you are paid what you are owed. No more, no less. In exchange, you will meet with me and your neighbor to officially charter a boundary between your lands.” Pause for effect, he liked that tool as well. “Is that acceptable to you, Master Thomas?”
The farmer stood motionless for just a moment, carefully mulling over the proposal. He seemed to give up trying to use words, and simply grunted with an affirmative nod. “Fantastic!” Henry said, “see the attendant out in the hall and have him draw up the bill of sale. If he gives you any trouble, tell him to come see me. I will send a messenger once I have made the preparations for the charter.” Henry strode over to the farmer and extended his hand, which the man firmly shook before leaving the audience chamber.
After the man was gone, Henry turned around and took in the sight of the audience chamber, or at least that’s what he called it; it sounded far less imposing or self aggrandizing than “throne room.” Plus, he never sat in the stupidly big chair. He thought it was much better to look busy than commanding when dealing with matters of normal people. They seemed to like seeing their leaders working as much they worked, though Henry hardly ever felt like he did. His was a privileged life, he very much knew. But he refused to apologize for his good fortune, nor would he let it place him above others. Instead he would simply try and be the best at what he was born into, and that meant King, eventually. Life certainly would have been easier if his father had chosen Nikolas to be the heir, but his brother had no people skills whatsoever; the man would have offended the very people he wanted to help.
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Henry chuckled to himself, content with his clever solution to Thomas’ problem, and sauntered over to the open window. It was a quiet day, cool and still. The slight breeze gently tugged at his brown curls. The sun still shone in full, but would doubtless dip below the horizon in less than an hour. Everything seemed peaceful, as it usually was. As it should be.
He breathed deeply before closing the window and heading out of the room. There were still several things on his mind that bothered him, and they all had to do with the utter silence from Sirene. They had been on good terms with Sirene over the last few generations, and there wasn’t any significant tension or reason for the sudden lack of news. Still, no news was better than bad news, or so the saying went.
On the other hand, he had been expecting Katsumi to be back by now. He had been planning a lovely evening for them at the orchestra being featured tonight and for the next three days. Then he was going to treat her to a truly memorable dinner in the palace gardens where the mountain petals had begun to bloom. Then he would ask her to marry him… again… for the third time. Ask her thrice, and give her something nice. But she won’t be yours until you ask her four. Rysen told him that the last time they shared drinks, the poet that she was. She had an uncanny way of predicting Katsumi that Henry should really be listening to more. But, that was future Henry’s problem. Today Henry was going to prove Rysen wrong and finally have the fiance he had desired since he was a boy.
Henry shuffled his way through the castle halls in a half dance, wearing a grin so smug that Katsumi surely would have slapped it right off of him were she there to see it. He exchanged pleasant greetings with most of the staff that he passed, making his way to the main hall. He slowed his half-walk as he saw his father meeting with the captain of the guard, and was motioned over to talk with them. Henry didn’t care much for lavish decorations, but even he was impressed by the love that had been put into the room’s design. Flying buttresses, full wall murals, enough paintings and flowers to fill a gallery, and enough candles to ward away the dead. Red and gold colored the whole of the palace, and it played very nicely in the grand entrance with the gold furnishings to give the place a glow that only wealth can achieve. When he finally became king, Henry wanted to have many grand buildings made.
The captain was the first to greet Henry as he approached, “Your Highness, good of you to join us.”
“The pleasure is all mine, Captain. What seems to be the problem?”
“Sir, we have received news from Sirene.”
“About time!” Henry said calmly, but he noticed that the captain’s purple eyes were hard and his lip was pursed to a hard line. “What news, Captain?”
“The Durvinna flag now flies on Castle Sirene.” He said without preamble or hesitancy.
“What?” Henry said, confusion and shock showing in equal parts, his normal flippant posture hardening.
“We got confirmation an hour ago. Apparently Durvinna patrols have been spotted waylaying any passing caravan or traveler.”
“Any sign of the royal family?” The king asked.
“No word yet, sir. Scouts report many search parties leaving the roads and wandering in the woods for half a league or so before coming back into ranks and continuing down the roads toward our borders. My instincts tell me that someone important is hiding from them, but I don’t believe it to be the royal family. Surely, they would have made their way over to us by now if they were alive.”
Henry eyed the man and said flatly, “But you don’t know for certain.” The words were stone cold and devoid of the prince’s usual charm and pep.
To his credit, the captain didn’t shy away but looked him straight in the eye before continuing, “What I know, your highness, is that whether they are alive or not, our response should be the same: seal up the gates and fortify the borders.”
“And so we shall.” The king concurred. “Send the word, captain, and see to it that the most outlying cities are evacuated here before the walls are shut.” The king turned to go, but stopped short. “And Nikolas”, he said to the captain, “keep your brother here from doing anything stupid.” With that, he left the hallway and headed further into the castle.
Nikolas turned to Henry, stone faced as always when assuming the role of captain of the guard, and eyed him suspiciously. “So, how do you plan to get away from me this time?”
“By asking very nicely.” Henry retorted, with his signature half smirk.
Nikolas rolled his eyes, sighed, and gave him an exasperated smile. “Well, just know that I will always be fifteen minutes behind you, brother. Hopefully this time, it’s just to keep you company and not to bail you out.”
“Thanks for shattering my spirits and encouraging me at the same time.” Henry said. The brothers shared a quick embrace before Henry began heading off to his quarters. He had a lot of packing to do in fifteen minutes or less. Nikolas called after him before he left earshot, “out of curiosity, what’s your plan?”
Henry turned and gave his most placating smile, “Isn’t it obvious?” He said, “Something stupid.” And he swept off towards his room.