The Prince’s Heart

2. Chapter 2

Chapter two

“W hat happened with you and Petris? You two seemed to be having a good time together last night. From what I saw, at least.”

I look up from the paper I’m holding, my eyes bleary and my mind still half-asleep. Samis stands before my desk, looking as resplendent as ever. Even though I’ve known him my entire life, I still don’t understand how he can be so chipper, so animated, this early in the morning. Even his hair, a few shades lighter than mine and a bit longer, is perfectly coiffed, like he slept with his head floating several inches above his pillow.

“Could you keep it down a bit?” I ask him. “Some of us aren’t fully awake yet.”

He tilts his head slightly and raises his eyebrows. “You’re kidding, right? It’s eight o’clock already. Besides, I asked Joram, and he said you got up an hour ago.”

I suppose I can’t expect my steward to lie to the crown prince, but it would be nice if he would bend the truth once in a while. “There’s a difference between getting up and being awake , you know.”

“If you say so, Prince Sleepyhead.” He snatches the paper from my hand and looks at it as though he’s never seen anything like it before. “Although, I suppose if I had to read reports like this all morning, I might have trouble staying awake too. What’s this one about? Don’t tell me Father is making you review the maintenance on the city’s sewers again?”

“Be careful with that!” I take the paper back, handling it much more carefully than he had. “And for your information, it’s not a report.”

“Really?” His eyebrows lift even higher. “And here I thought you’d finally seen the light and decided to get started on your daily work before noon for once.”

I roll my eyes and avoid looking at the growing pile of papers on my desk. Occasionally, people are surprised to find out I actually have responsibilities other than lounging around and riding horses and attending balls or whatever it is they think princes do. As with most things in my life, it’s Samis’s fault—being the raging go-getter that he is, he asked our father to give him some duties as soon as he came of age, and of course that meant I had to do the same when I came of age three years later. Sometimes, I wish I hadn’t been quite so insistent back then, but it’s too late now. At least our personalities are different enough that we’re not fighting over who gets the more enjoyable duties. Generally, the things he enjoys are ones that I would hate, and vice versa. So, while he’s off attending meetings of Soeria’s Council of State or hosting delegations from foreign countries, I get to stay where it’s quiet and review petitions sent to Father or read reports from various government underlings.

“If it’s not a report, what is it?” Samis asks, eyeing the paper askance.

“You’ve heard of the Battle of Cavain, right?”

His blank stare is all the response I need.

“Seriously? Our great-great-grandmother led the victorious army. It’s basically the reason Soeria exists in the first place.” The fact that there’s not even a tiny spark of recognition in his eyes makes me want to groan. “It was toward the end of the War of Dissolution. Our great-great-grandmother Etena led the Soerian army against the Idrian Empire—or what was left of it by then, anyway—and the Empress. After she won, she declared Soeria’s independence and became queen. You really haven’t heard of it?”

“Doesn’t ring a bell,” Samis says cheerfully. “You know I never paid attention during history lessons.”

It is a deep, deep struggle not to roll my eyes again.

“What does that paper have to do with it, anyway?” he asks. He reaches out a hand, but I slap it away.

“It’s a first-hand account from a Soerian pikebearer,” I explain. “Well, one page of it, at least. There aren’t many primary sources from that time—which makes sense, given how many records got destroyed during the war. Or maybe people had better things to do other than write down their memories, I don’t know. In any case, it’s relatively rare to find something like this without doing some digging. Of course, they wrote it twenty years or so after the battle, so it’s not perfect, but it’s still better than nothing. It’s…” I trail off as I notice Samis’s eyebrows have reached their maximum height. “You did ask, you know.”

“I already regret it,” he says, patting my shoulder. “I noticed you completely avoided answering my other question, by the way.”

Oh right, I forgot he asked me about Petris. “It went … okay.” I try not to cringe. “Can we maybe talk about this later? It’s not like you’re going to die if you don’t find out right now.”

“Nonsense,” he says. Another thing I’ll never be able to understand about him is how he can put so much authority into a single word; it might bother me if I wasn’t used to it by now. “Come eat breakfast with me and Kenessa. I want to hear everything.”

I don’t really want to, but I know it would be futile to resist, so I sigh instead of arguing with him. “Alright, fine. Let me get these papers put away first. I’ll meet you there in a few minutes.” Hopefully there will be some food left by then .

He does as I ask and goes away, his victory secure. A few minutes later, once I’ve carefully put the page I was reading back where it belongs, I follow him, leaving my chambers and making my way to the rooms Samis and Kenessa share.

Rich paintings and ornate vases line the halls of the Royal Palace, and, as always, I take a moment to admire them while I walk by. The palace isn’t large—not for a traditional palace, at least—but it is old, an elegant building made of marble and granite that dates back to the golden days of the Idrian Empire. My ancestors have accumulated quite a bit of art over the years; I’ve lived here my entire life, and I doubt I’ve seen even half of the assorted portraits and sculptures.

Since I’m on the third floor, when I look out the windows, I can see the city that surrounds us. Cedelia, the capital of the Kingdom of Soeria, has been ruled by my family for generations—since the aforementioned Battle of Cavain— as monarchs, and before that as viceregents for the Emperor or Empress. Mother once told me that when she first came here from Zeteyon—our neighbor to the east and another former viceregency of the Idrian Empire—she instantly fell in love with Cedelia. “Of course,” she said, “I was still a wide-eyed young princess back then, and I wasn’t exactly happy at the prospect of an arranged marriage with your father. But it certainly worked out well, didn’t it?”

Looking out at the city, I can see why she was drawn to it. Smoke from morning cookfires drifts from chimneys set in red-tiled roofs, and people are going about their daily shopping in the market square that faces the palace. Whoever rebuilt the city after the War of Dissolution designed the buildings close to the palace in such an ornate fashion that they’re almost works of art themselves, with gold-topped towers that glimmer and shine in the morning sunlight and intricately carved, wooden window grilles. Seeing them is a nice palate cleanser before I get interrogated by Samis about my exploits—or lack thereof—at the ball last night.

Samis and Kenessa greet me as I enter their dining room; Kenessa looks just as dapper and awake as her husband. Emma, our sister, is with them, which is another surprise—usually she’s far too busy to join us for meals. Maybe she decided to actually take a break for once . She looks up when I walk in and waves, not showing any signs of fatigue, even though she was probably up earlier than Samis was. I help myself to some sausage, fruit, and toast before I join them at the table.

Unfortunately, I don’t get a chance to eat just yet, because Samis wastes no time in getting down to business. “Now that you’re here, tell me what happened with Petris,” he says. “I saw the two of you dancing, but what happened after that?”

Before I can respond, Emma jumps in, giving me an incredulous stare. “Wait, who’s Petris? And more importantly, you were dancing ? You must really like him if you let him drag you onto the dance floor.”

“I did like him. I mean, I do like him. We had a good time last night. He seems like a perfectly nice person.” I take a deep breath. “But I don’t think I’m going to see him again.”

The three of them share a look that I’ve seen several times before, and I suppress a sigh.

“Why not?” Emma asks slowly, her eyebrows raised. “Didn’t you just say you had a good time with him?”

“Yes, but …” How can I explain this in a way that makes sense to them ? “He said I’m not really his type, which I didn’t mind. But then he told me that it doesn’t matter whether our personalities are compatible because I’m a prince.”

A few seconds of awkward silence pass. “And that was a problem because?” Samis finally prompts.

“Don’t you get it?” I shift in my seat and cross my arms, trying not to wither under everyone’s collective attention. “He acted like my title was the only thing about me that’s important. I mean, he pretty much said he would be willing to court anyone, if they were a prince.”

“But you are a prince.” Samis sounds like he’s telling me the sky is blue. “It’s not exactly a secret, you know. If you like him and he likes you, what’s the problem?”

I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised they don’t understand. This is hardly the first time I’ve had this conversation with them. “You’re not getting it. The problem isn’t that he, or anyone, knows I’m a prince. The problem is that’s the only thing he knows about me. The only thing he seemed to care about, anyway.” I pause, trying to figure out how to put my feelings into words. “Look, I don’t want to court someone who just sees me as their chance to become part of the royal family. I want someone who actually likes me as a person and not just my position. Is that really asking for too much?”

“Darien, I’m not saying you’re wrong to want that. I just think you might have to lower your standards a bit. You can’t expect people to completely forget you’re a prince. When they first meet you, that is the only thing they know about you. You just need to give them a chance to get to know the real you before you reject them out of hand. Why not turn your position into an asset, rather than a liability? You could have anyone you want!” He turns to look at Kenessa. “How do you think I managed to convince Kenessa to court me? She probably wouldn’t have looked at me twice if I wasn’t going to be king someday.”

Kenessa smiles sweetly at her husband. “Is that what you think, darling? Surely you don’t believe I’m that shallow.” They beam at each other for a few more seconds, and I’m just about to gag on my toast when she turns to me. “Unlike these two, I understand what you’re saying, and I think you’ve got it exactly right. There’s no need to settle for someone who’s just a pretty face. I’m sure the right man for you will come along before you know it.”

I nod, but I’m not convinced. I’m always going to be a prince, and I doubt I’ll ever find a man who doesn’t care about that. So many people in my life act like the only thing that matters about me is my title, and not just when it comes to courting. Everyone has ideas about how a prince should act, should feel, should think , and they just assume I do act and feel and think those things, even if I don’t. Then when I inevitably mess up or say the wrong thing, because I’m not perfect, someone’s always disappointed in me.

I don’t say any of that, though, partially because I know they’ll just dismiss my concerns, and partially because I have this irrational fear that saying it will make it come true.

Some of what I’m feeling must be showing in my expression, because Samis pats my shoulder. “Don’t look so glum,” he chides. “You’re only twenty-five years old! I’m sure you’ll meet your man soon enough, like Kenessa said. And, if it’s too difficult, you can just ask Mother and Father to find someone for you.”

I shudder involuntarily. “Don’t even joke about that. You know how I feel about arranged marriages.”

Samis nods, a hint of a smile on his face. “Well, what better way to avoid marrying some man you’ve never even met than actually going out there and meeting people? I know things didn’t work out with Petris, but I’ve got a few other friends I can introduce you to. Who knows—maybe you’ll find that one or two of them is more than just a ‘pretty face,’ as Kenessa says. Even if they aren’t, it’s not the end of the world! There’s nothing wrong with having a little fun while you’re still young. Before you get married, of course,” he adds hastily as Kenessa glares at him. “The same goes for you, Emma, by the way. I know you’d rather spend your time working, but everyone needs a distraction now and then.”

I figure this is as good a chance as any to change the topic away from my love life and onto less fraught grounds. “Speaking of which, Emma, what is this project you’ve been working on lately? I don’t think you’ve ever actually told me.”

“I don’t know if I’d call it a project, exactly,” Emma replies. “There’s been an outbreak of wasting fever in two of the settlements just outside the city walls. I’m working with the palace healers to see if we can track the source and prevent it from spreading any farther.”

“How bad is it?” Kenessa asks. “Should we be worried?”

“There’s no reason to be worried at the moment, no. It’s only a few isolated cases so far, and nobody’s died just yet. Hopefully, it’ll stay that way.” She turns to Samis. “None of you mention this to Mother or Father, by the way. I don’t want them to get upset, like they did when someone told them I was doing that census of the prison inmates.”

Samis holds up his hands in mock surrender. “I’ve told you a million times, that was an accident. My lips are sealed. I promise.”

The two of them bicker for a while longer, with Kenessa and I jumping in occasionally, before we all decide it’s time for the four of us to go about our days. Just as I’m about to leave, though, Samis stops me and Emma.

“I almost forgot to tell you. Mother and Father are having dinner with the Learas tomorrow night, and they want us all to be there. I didn’t think they were supposed to be here until summer, but apparently I was wrong.”

Kenessa scratches her cheek. “Can someone please tell me who exactly the Learas are? Your mother has mentioned them quite a few times, but I felt too awkward to ask her.”

“Catherine Leara is Mother’s friend,” Samis explains. “They grew up at the Zeteyoni court together, and I’m told they were inseparable. When Mother came to Soeria to marry Father, she asked Catherine to come too, but Catherine stayed in Zeteyon and married a viscount. She and Mother have stayed in touch, though, and her daughter Riella spent some time here in Cedelia studying foreign affairs and diplomacy a few years ago—Darien, you and Riella are friends, right?” He waits for me to nod before he continues. “Anyway, it seems like she’s finally taking up Mother’s offer, because the whole family is coming to live here in Cedelia. I’m betting Catherine and her husband are hoping to play matchmaker and marry their kids off to some rich and powerful Soerian nobles. After all, some people are willing to use their connections to our family to find a good match.” He looks at me meaningfully, and I ignore him, just as meaningfully. “In any event, Mother wants us all to have dinner together so we can reacquaint ourselves. It’ll be us plus the four Learas—Catherine, Aloran, Riella, and …” He pauses, then turns to me and Emma. “Do either of you remember the son’s name?”

I shake my head, and Emma shrugs. Kenessa says something to Samis, but I tune the three of them out, thinking about what Samis said earlier. I’m sure you’ll meet your man soon enough .

If only I could let myself believe that he’s right.