Chapter 1 #2
His mother, on the other hand, had been mortified.
The very next day, she summoned Makellos to her private chambers.
It was the first time he had ever been allowed in her rooms, and he marveled at the novelty of it.
Once they were alone, she led him over to a large armoire against one wall near the bed.
It was made of a dark wood, and on the doors was a large painted peacock, covered in hundreds, perhaps even thousands, of shimmering gemstones, mostly sapphires and emeralds.
It was so glittery and shiny, he couldn’t resist reaching out a hand to try to touch it.
His mother slapped his hand and pointed to the edge of the bed nearby.
Makellos rubbed at his hand and tried not to cry.
He turned his back on her to walk to the bed, and he heard something click, followed by the sound of the cabinet doors opening.
He sat down on the edge of the bed as he watched his mother step inside the wardrobe.
He couldn’t see what was inside from where he sat, so he wiggled his way down to the foot of the bed and leaned over as much as he could.
He still couldn’t see beyond the first step, which seemed to be a stone floor, but he could see the irregular flicker of torches on the wall.
It must be a secret room, he thought. One that only his mother knew about.
He knew his mother practiced magic, and it made sense to him that she would need a special space in which to do so.
He was curious to see the inside of the chamber for himself, but he was a good and obedient child, so he stayed on the bed where he had been commanded.
Queen Schon returned with a book of magic spells, and she used several large, beautiful stones to cast an enchantment on him that Makellos didn’t understand.
After that day in her chambers, every article of clothing that Makellos ever wore was enchanted to always be clean and pressed, no matter what the young prince did.
Dirt, dust, stains, anything considered unsightly vanished almost instantly.
It provoked whispers amongst the servants that the prince was treated more like a porcelain doll than a child and also further reinforced the separation between him and the lowly servants.
It did, at least, make it easier for him to hide his nocturnal adventures in the kitchen without fear of errant flour or grease spots to give him away.
As he grew older, Makellos began to realize how sheltered his life had been as the only prince of Falchovari.
It pained him that he did not know the people of his own kingdom.
He rarely was allowed to leave the palace, and much of what he knew of the world outside its walls were what he heard as whispers from the servants.
His tutors tried to educate him on the policies and laws of the land, but all of it was subject to the Queen’s whim and could change as easily as the wind, depending on her mood.
For all the ruling of the people that she did not do, what she did rule, she ruled with an iron fist. Or rather, a diamond one, Makellos thought.
His mother was brutal, manipulative, and cruel.
Any kindness she showed was carefully calculated to get what she wanted.
He grew to recognize it more and more the older he got.
He knew the servants whispered about it too.
How could such a savage, evil woman like Queen Schon produce such a tender-hearted and sweet child as Prince Makellos? Even he did not have an answer to that.
He did learn as he grew into manhood that food was becoming more and more scarce.
He himself never starved; the larders of the palace were always full, the table always laden with platters of meat, fish, fruit, and every delicacy he could imagine.
He was never cold, for his clothes were warm, and there was always a cheerful fire burning in the hearth.
Though he did not receive love and affection from his mother, his basic needs were always more than fulfilled.
“Why do we not share our good fortune with the townspeople?” he asked his mother once.
The Queen had laughed, a sound so condescending it made his teeth ache. “My dear boy, this is the life we lead. All is fair when you wear the crown. If the peasants wish to enjoy more fruits of their labors, they should just work harder.”
Makellos didn’t think that just working harder would produce crops in lands that were unfertile or populate the rivers with fish again. “It just seems that we could do more to help the-”
“Makellos!” the Queen snapped sharply. “You are young and foolish. You live in a world of wishes, and I do not want to hear another word out of you about these ridiculous notions. You are a prince and my son, and I suggest you behave as such.”
“Yes, Mother,” he had relented. He had only wanted to help in some way.
Wasn’t that what royalty was supposed to do?
What was the point of having all of the power and money if he didn’t share it with those in need?
He thought that if perhaps he could get out of the palace, he might be able to do something.
He felt stuck here, a porcelain doll kept in a box on a shelf, only brought out to flaunt before being returned to the darkness.
Never played with, never allowed to be anything more than a showpiece.
He hoped that as he grew to be an adult, he might be able to do more to help the people of Falchovari.
He began to make plans of things he wanted to accomplish.
He wanted to meet the people of the country, learn their stories and about how they lived.
He wanted to learn some sort of trade that could be helpful.
He wanted to find a way to ensure that every person in the kingdom had enough food to stave away hunger and enough clothing to stave away cold.
And he wanted to visit other neighboring kingdoms, to see how they were governed and how their people lived.
So, in the autumn of his twentieth year, when he received invitations to attend lavish balls being held in Hallin, their neighboring kingdom to the west, he was delighted.
The King and Queen there were seeking a partner for their son, Prince Lorenz.
Makellos knew the name, though he had never met the young man.
He had once met Prince Adalwin, who had been the crown prince of Hallin a number of winters ago, when Makellos was still a boy.
Adalwin had visited the Falchovari court.
He had left the palace abruptly to return home, but he never made it back.
He vanished along the way and was presumed dead.
Makellos wondered what had happened to him, for the Dark Forest that swept through a large swathe of their kingdom was treacherous and full of evil things.
Still, he was hopeful that he might attend at least one of the balls and approached his mother about it when the invitation arrived.
“Of course you shall not attend, my dear,” the Queen said, her ruby lips curling up into a sneer.
“If they are so foolish that they do not ask for your hand outright, we will certainly not entertain this cattle market.”
Disappointment surged inside of him. A visit to Hallin, to attend a ball or two with the prince would have been an exciting escape from Falchovari, even for a short time, and might have given him the opportunity to see more of the lands and its people as well.
But he could not defy the Queen’s wishes.
“Yes, Mother,” he replied, and not another word was said between them about it.