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There's a Hero in the Kingdom
Chapter 2-3 - The Things that Work

Chapter 2-3 - The Things that Work

One of the benefits of being the crown prince, or simply the royal family in general, was that Quinn was allowed to sleep in if he so desired. He rarely took advantage of the opportunity, but it did exist. The last several days he had been working hard on the various administrative things that were slowly being funneled in his direction. He had a compulsive habit of overseeing such things in order to try and ensure his future vision would come to pass.

Despite his desire, Quinn was awake though. He laid in bed, staring up at the canopy overhead. Fragments of light crept through the cracks in the curtains drawn around the bed.

“How can we convince them you are with me?” he murmured, turning to the figure lying in the bed next to him.

The figure did not respond, for it was not alive. Most of those who would see it would call it a doll, but Quinn referred to it as a stand-in. It was vaguely human shaped, as it had a torso, head, and four limbs in all the right places. It was also very soft, being filled with cotton. Yellowish yarn atop the head simulated hair while a gently smiling face was stitched into the cloth. The vagueness made it less obvious, but everyone who saw it knew who the doll was supposed to be.

Quinn had secretly had the Rebecca-esque doll made shortly after they had returned to the capital. Wyen had objected, citing something about Rebecca finding out and being upset, but Quinn carried on. At least in his mind, there was nothing strange about sleeping next to a stand-in to get used to the sensation. He could also vocalize his thoughts to someone who would listen without interruption, which occasionally he desired.

“I see,” he said, carrying on the one sided conversation playing out in his head.

The door to his room burst open with a clatter as someone stormed through. Both intrigued and confused, Quinn peered out through the curtains, squinting as his sight adjusted to the bright morning sunlight.

“Your Highness! You have an important visitor!” the servant who rushed in exclaimed.

“Who? Who is it, Leon?”

“The Hero!” Leon responded.

Quinn leapt out of the bed.

“What? Why is she here?”

“She said something about going out, but would not elaborate further.”

Leon hurriedly grabbed some appropriate attire and helped Quinn dress. In less than ten minutes Quinn was hurrying down the hall towards the waiting chamber.

“Ah, Rebecca! What a surprise!” he said as he entered.

She turned to look at him, her hazel colored eyes shining a bit with the light’s reflection. She scanned him up and down quickly before shrugging her shoulders.

“I guess that can work. We can get you something better in town,” she said.

“Pardon? If you need something, I can have it brought to you.”

“No. We’re going out.”

Quinn was confused, which showed on his face apparently as she seemed to recognize that he did not understand.

“Ah. I guess you might call it something like courting, right?”

“Oh. Oh!” Quinn replied as his confusion changed to understanding, “Does that mean you…”

He trailed off, remembering the scene that Wyen and he had created over a week ago now as they elaborated about Rebecca and his relationship, or lack thereof. She had become so off put by the discussion she had practically run off.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said the other day. I still can’t agree to… that… yet. But I agreed to take things slow and consider it. So we’re going out… on a date…”

She was getting more embarrassed as she spoke, causing her face to flush. Quinn started feeling rather weak at the sight and his insides felt as though they were squirming with excitement.

“While I can’t say I understand exactly, if this helps you then I’ll come. We’ll need Wyen and Fang…”

“No. It’s just an us thing. No one else,” she interrupted.

“That’s not really possible,” he said after a momentary pause, “As nice as that sounds, for multiple reasons, I’m still the crown prince of the country. If I go without at least a guard, who knows what sort of assassins might try to target me.”

“I may not like it, but you all have been calling me a hero for how long now? I’m around the capital all the time and I’m not targeted.”

“Vivette is nearby and I have several other Shadow operatives protecting you.”

“That’s why we are going to ditch them too.”

“This is insane Rebecca. I can’t agree to this!”

Rebecca walked right up to Quinn. As she leaned in close, his nose was tickled by a fruity scent that gently wafted from her hair.

“If things go well, maybe you’ll get a…,” she whispered, pausing, “... a kiss at the end.”

She pulled back and again Quinn was entranced by her blushing. His legs had turned to jelly and he collapsed to the floor, kneeling. His objections and logic flew out the window as he caved to his desires. Had Quinn been able to think clearly at that moment, it was clear that she was utilizing her knowledge of his weakness. However, in the moment he no longer cared.

“Well what are we waiting for?” Quinn practically begged from his position.

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Fang burst into Quinn’s office looking frazzled. He scanned the room in a frenzy and let out a scream. The combination of events caused Wyen, who unlike the prince had not taken the morning off, to jump up with concern.

“What is it?” Wyen asked.

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“He’s gone! I have no idea where or how he escaped, but he’s gone!” Fang shouted in desperation.

A chill ran down Wyen’s spine. There was only one person whose unexplained disappearance would cause Fang this much distress. Guard knights were meant to be near their charges during all waking hours, and at night if the need arose, and Fang was not with his charge.

“Have you searched the entire palace?” Wyen asked.

“I’ve been working on it. I have the other guards searching the castle grounds.”

The palace itself was only a part of the castle as a whole. Officially the palace was the residence and workplace of the royal family and a few close subordinates, such as Wyen and Fang. It was ornate and decorative in nature, for showing off Sengar’s riches to visiting dignitaries and diplomats. Nearby manors served as quarters to such visitors during such visits.

Meanwhile, the castle included the palace and everything else on the grounds. It was essentially a small village within fortified walls that protected and served the palace. Most of the castle grounds were under the jurisdiction of the military, though technically the military was controlled by the royal family so it was still the royal’s territory. This tiny village within the castle meant that even if the surrounding capital were to fall, the palace could still hold out a little longer in a siege.

“I’ll get Adelade and inform the king. Tell the servants to start searching as well. Hopefully he’s still nearby,” Wyen said as he clutched at his head which was starting to throb already.

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While the palace was starting to panic, the owner of a small clothing shop next door to Rebecca’s clinic was having a similar reaction for very different reasons.

“How does this look?” Quinn said, stepping out from behind a curtain.

He had left the palace in clothes that screamed nobility. Rebecca had arranged for something more simple to be provided here, and thus why he was now in a loose tunic and pants that had been patched a couple of times. The goal, after all, was that he would appear less out of place than normal. Frankly, he felt ridiculous and wondered how on earth people could wear something this old and scratchy.

“Decent. It will work,” Rebecca replied.

She handed a few coins to the tailor who was standing nearby, fidgeting nervously. He looked hesitant to accept them.

“It’s fine,” she said with a wink, “For the trouble and your silence for the day. We were not here.”

The tailor accepted the coins, though he and his wife threw themselves on the ground and prostrated before Quinn and Rebecca as the pair left. After tossing Quinn’s normal attire inside her clinic, they set off down the street, looking very much like any other young people of the area.

“Really though, how do people wear this?” Quinn asked as he scratched.

“Not everybody gets the fine clothes that make up your wardrobe. They get the leftovers and rejected threads and have to make do.”

“Oh.”

If there was one thing that Cindra had been right about several months ago, it was that while Quinn proclaimed to care about the commoners, he failed to understand them enough to actually care. He was someone at the top of society looking down and tweaking things as he saw fit, with little to no regard for how it might affect some people. In general, it could be argued that changes he orchestrated were beneficial, but there would always be someone whose life worked better in the old ways. Then there were ideas that worked in one place but not in others. That was something he was facing now.

“Why are the streets so dirty here? We worked on this last year!” Quinn was aghast.

Here and there, people were operating in much the same ways that they had before Quinn’s reforms. Refuse was simply poured onto the side of the streets or in back alleys. Horse and other animal droppings were left where they fell.

“Your policies worked in the upper districts, but not here,” Rebecca said with a sorrowful expression.

“But the money we put towards it!” Quinn sputtered.

“As loyal as you think the people in charge of carrying things out are, there’s going to be corruption. The people being hired out here would be making less than as apprentices. They don’t want to do it for so little.”

“Then we should go straighten them out!”

“That will only fix part of the problem. Most of the people don’t understand why these things are supposed to happen.”

“What is there to understand? The palace puts out an order and the people follow it,” Quinn said.

Rebecca stopped walking and sadly smiled.

“If you saw an apple sitting on this street and ordered someone to eat it, do you think they would?”

She was right, and Quinn knew it.

“You have great ideas, Quinn. But to most that is all they are, ideas. The typical person is more focused right now on making sure they eat for the next day, the next week, the next month.”

“Is it like that where you come from too?”

Rebecca paused.

“In some ways, yes, in others, no.”

“Huh?”

“The streets were not necessarily dirty like this, but there were some. Most people where I’m from weren’t necessarily worried about food, but there were some.”

“What did you do?”

“To help? What I could. It’s not perfect but it’s sometimes all you can do. Where I came from is probably like 500 years ahead of you here, with no magic. You’re going to face challenges that I can’t comprehend because I never had to deal with them.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Quinn asked, “Why show me this?”

“I wanted you to see that not everything is going as smoothly as you think. And I wanted you to know I’m not as great as you all keep trying to make me out to be,” Rebecca said, “I’m sorry.”

Quinn scanned the area again.

“You have nothing to apologize for.”

They headed back in the direction of Rebecca’s clinic and towards one of the parts of town that had seen success from Quinn’s involvement. As they walked through, Quinn saw the difference that Rebecca was trying to point out. Here, it seemed like things had been carried out by those in charge according to Quinn’s plans. The people looked generally happier here too, but Quinn was not really sure having never met them before.

“This place is good,” Rebecca commented, steering them towards a tavern.

Quinn was distracted in thought given all that he had seen, so much so that he had forgotten in the moment what it was he was doing here.

“Is it?” he asked, snapping back to the situation.

He gasped at the realization that this date was probably not ending the way he hoped.

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“So he met with her, alone, and they haven’t been seen since?” the king summarized.

“That seems to be the case, Your Majesty,” Wyen said.

“And you have no idea what sort of magic she could have used?” the king continued.

“It is the only way they could have eluded everyone,” Adelade replied, “But identifying magic cast by others is impossible unless I were to witness it. It could be some flight spell, or memory spell, or even something like shadow movement.”

“How did this not trip any of your father’s wards?”

“Again I cannot say,” Adelade replied, “I can only guess that whatever she did was either something that we have no ward for or she overpowered the defenses of the wards in place.”

“So does she have magic that we should be worried about?” the king murmured.

“Your Majesty, I think that is unlikely. While I cannot fathom the reason why she would risk Prince Quinn’s life as she has, she is in favor of working with us. Of that I share in the prince’s certainty,” Wyen said.

“Are you suggesting that we wait, Wyen?”

“Yes, Your Majesty. We can continue to search the palace and castle grounds, but if word seeps into the city, there could be panic.”

“I agree. This incident will fuel rumors though, which do benefit the Nationalist’s cause.”

“Perhaps not, Your Majesty. If we can slip into the story that it was not the prince acting rogue like he is, it would seem more like she came to us rather than him to her. It is a minor enough detail to put in, but should be capable of changing the narrative.”

The king was silent for a moment as he thought about it.

“Make it so. Quinn will be sitting here soon, and we need Rebecca by his side.”