The girl hightails it out of the city square until she can duck out of sight. It must be my charming self causing her to scurry away as if a lion were on her tail.

I inwardly snort in derision. It's times such as this I wish I were just a normal person born to normal parents.

I run her face through my mind once more, categorizing her full cheeks and pert nose. Her figure was strong and her hands had the hard callouses from consistent and proper swordsmanship. She moves with the grace of a feline, and it makes me wonder exactly who would win if I sparred the mysterious girl.

It would be a riot to see her face if I challenged her to a fight. A smile I keep hidden raises my lips. I flatten them back out before anyone can see.

The eyes... they were haunted and harried, something beyond what meeting a prince could do. What hides behind those eyes? What made her so frightened of me?

I’ve seen her before. She’s the little lass who took on Wolfsbane. She wasn't near so timid then.

Although, there is something about her that looks more recently familiar. Something about a bout in the arena jogs my memory, and I glance back at where she disappeared to. I wonder...

Mother holds out her hand, and I smoothly slip my arm so she may grab it. I am her market day escort, after all.

Market day is of vast import to the crown. It puts the royal family before the people, showing them we are here to maintain thier peace. It shows we care.

It keeps the people happy, an important factor when you consider without people, a nation means nothing. Titles mean nothing. Hardly anything is worth anything without those you share it with.

Even if it is a deep wish of mine to have a few moments without people.

Mother cocks her head, and I would know that look anywhere. She’s Listening.

Mother is a rare Gifted. She can feel the emotions of others, including animals. She is what is called an Empath, and such a Gift is guarded and deeply treasured on Beulah.

When Mother's Gift came to light in a foreign nation, grandfather himself traveled to place a handsome dowry upon her lap and the offer of a Queenship.

But Mother being Mother did not want a dowry. She wanted to know the man who she would marry.

Lo-and-behold, something in Father must’ve pleased her, for despite many nations vying for her hand, she chose him.

Assassination attempts became many after they married. Kidnappings, assorted threats, and poisons became a weekly trial. When I was born, they made certain I would need no fear of assassins or poisons or kidnappings. They created the perfect weapon.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

“The woman is special, son of mine. Tread carefully.”

My steps pause, and I raise a brow as I turn questioning eyes on my beautiful mother in her purple satin gown and dagger ensemble. But she ignores me, gesturing one guard down a dark side alleyway. The stench of foul waste and feces emanates from the pipes along the sides of the alley.

Mother's done with the conversation and is too stubborn to say anything more. I blow out a breath. She’s cannier than a canary and harder headed than an Eldertree.

My men check it out, leaving two guards at the other end and gesturing in hand signals what they found. The place is clean of people, if not of rotten and dastardly smells.

Mother nods curtly, then picks up her skirts and glides down the dank stone as if it were a palace garden.

I shake my head and follow behind her with my hands in my pockets.

She plucks a kitten with striped fur and two tails from the sewer drain. The thing looks like a drowned rat.

Mother tries to revive it, and it gives a small, gurgling meow.

I pet its head, but it doesn’t respond.

Something in me gives a dull throb at the thought of the little thing dying in such a way.

I take it from mother, vigorously rubbing its side to stimulate its internal organs. When it doesn’t respond, I wipe its nostrils and nose, then blow into it the air of life.

I rub it again, but the thing is going limp in my hands.

I blow again, and it gives a pitiful cough... then a wail. That’s what I was looking for.

I wrap her in a second cloak, then pass her back to Mother with a flourish and a bow, who watches me with a very slight smile and laughter dancing in her eyes.

I roll my eyes and spit out the foul taste coating my mouth. I’ve tasted worse... but not by much.

The guards around try to contain their mirth, but Johnathon can’t. He chuckles.

I stare at him in a princely glare, but ruin it when my lip twitches as the kitty meows again in Mother's arms. It seems we will take home another stray to add to Mother's collection.

“Was it worth it, prince of Irisia? Or should I say Kitty Saver of Irisia?” Mother asks, the other side of her lip trying to rise.

I roll my eyes again, opening my mouth to retort, when Johnathan says, “Slayer of sewage and hero of kitties.”

“Prince Arin, Kitty Master of Risia,” Mother says, curtsying. The cat gives a meow, as if agreeing. "How goes the sewage slaying?"

I bite my tongue, spitting again, and Mother raises a single brow, wrinkling her forehead in mock sympathy. "Is the taste of our people so bad?" she asks innocently.

"It's more filling than your Gur' S'kurs. Try some," I say, holding up a corner of the wet and filthy cape I used from one guard. I doubt he will want it back. I laugh at her very slight twist of her lips and narrowing of her eyes. It's a bit of a dare for us kids to get a rise from our straight-faced mother. And this is as good as her screaming in horror.

The stench from the cape fills my nostrils, and it takes an effort to keep the contents of my stomach from rebelling... especially when it is also in my mouth. The thought almost makes me gag, but such a reaction would bemoan our royalty.

Mother's shoulders shake in mirth, and I’m happy to see her release the burdens she’s been carrying.

They say they wish to see me married before they are old and senile... but mother just wants grand-babies to spoil while she can still enjoy them. Father wants to see me settled so he can pass me the burden of the crown.

But romancing a princess is the last thing on my mind.

We are being slowly infiltrated by a foreign nation we know nothing about.

And I will demand answers... if we can ever catch one of them. They are more slippery than a seaeel and worse than a Berserk in a tea shop. They’re ruining our country, starting from the bottom up. They poisoned the fish in the seas, then killed the deer of the forest, who were always plentiful in years past. I know the people suffer, and that will not do.

This foreign nation wishes to ruin us.

I need to know why so I can put an end to it.