by Dan Wingreen
Elias blinked.
Well. That was certainly unexpected.
The Dark Kingdom of Mournhelm lay on the far side of the Dark and Dangerous Forest at the westernmost edge of Ellington's border. As the name implied, it was a blighted land, made of ash and rock and populated with creatures of malice and might, ruled over by a Dark King so terrible all the evil of the world cowered under his gaze. It was said that he wore the fabled Mournhelm, a legendary relic of such dark and horrifying power even the vilest of wizards and warlords refused to speak of it aloud, lest the sentient helm's wicked attention be drawn to them.
Or so the stories went, anyway. The presence of firsthand information about the kingdom was woefully lacking, and every book Elias had ever read on it was appallingly under-researched and read like a child's fairy tale rather than the historical text it claimed to be. All Elias knew for sure was that the kingdom existed, it was in fact ruled over by a Dark King, and every member of the nobility in the White Kingdom of Ellington, including the White King, considered it the antithesis of every single one of their values.
Elias's curiosity was most definitely piqued.
"What kind of exchange?" he asked, not even caring that he'd given in to the Librarian's need to be continually prompted to further his monologues.
"Ahhhh. That's the question, isn't it?" The Librarian grinned noting, and obviously relishing, Elias's interest.
"And one I won't ask again."
Thankfully, the Librarian's need to gossip outweighed his need to manipulate conversations. "A diplomatic exchange," he whispered.
Elias blinked again. "Diplomatic? And the King did this willingly?"
The Librarian nodded. "Took everyone by surprise, it did."
Elias's lips twitched, briefly, into what might charitably be called a frown. He would be the first to admit that he could get somewhat…distracted, but he didn't think he would miss something like this. At the very least, the Crown Prince would have mentioned it…
Although, the Prince had been distracted these past months, more so than usual. And they hadn't exactly spent much time together in the past several weeks.
Elias shook himself out of his unproductive thoughts. "What is the nature of the diplomatic exchange? And what does any of this have to do with the Champion?"
The Librarian grinned again. "It's a fact finding exchange. We send a member of our court to theirs, they send one of theirs to ours, and both kingdoms learn about the other. History, culture, ideals…"
And troop strength, defensive capabilities…
"So, basically an exchange of spies?"
"Ha!" The Librarian barked. "A bit cynical, are we?"
"Realistic," Elias said flatly. "So I can assume, then, that our 'exchangee' is Sir Knight himself?"
"He is. Sir Knight braving the den of unspeakable evil has gotten all the young nobles in a romantic seizure over him again."
Elias resigned himself to a very crowded library for the next several days.
"And who is being consigned from Mournhelm?"
"Now we get to the really interesting part." The Librarian once again paused for effect. "The Dark King sent his son."
Elias raised an eyebrow. "The Dark King has a son?"
"Aye," the Librarian said. "The Dark Prince, he's called. He's supposed to arrive later this week."
Elias could almost feel his enthusiasm deflate. He had hoped, briefly, that the Dark King would send a scholar or an historian, possibly even one of those fantastical creatures which were said to reside in the Dark Kingdom. At the very least, maybe another knight of equal rank or relevance to the Champion. Any of those Elias could have hoped to talk with and gain incredibly rare, firsthand knowledge of Mournhelm. A member of royalty, though? And a prince, no less? A mere scholar wouldn't be allowed within three rooms of him, even if Elias thought it would be worth his time. And if this prince was anything like the Prince he knew, it would most definitely not be.
"Ah," he said a few moments later.
"Ah?" The Librarian repeated. "That's all you have to say? 'Ah'?"
Elias shrugged, his mind already turning away from missed opportunities and back onto his research. "The affairs of royalty have very little to do with me."
The Librarian snorted. "I think the Crown Prince would disagree with that."
"It wouldn't be the first time he and I didn't agree. Our differing viewpoints have never changed which one of us is correct."
The Librarian shook his head. "You're not even a little bit curious?"
"About Mournhelm? Yes, incredibly. About this Dark Prince? Not at all. I'm sure when Sir Knight returns he will give a detailed accounting to the King and it won't take long for the content of his account to be written down and cataloged in the library. Until then, I have better things to do than listen to court gossip about a foreign prince." Elias removed his glasses and cleaned them on the sleeve of his robe before placing them back on the end of his nose. "How long do you think it will be before Dunbar manages to fix the book?"
The Librarian stared at Elias for a moment, then shook his head and muttered his usual remonstrations about people who didn't share his every interest as he inspected the book. "A few days," he said, finally.
Elias nodded. "Then I shall see you in a few days."
Without another word, he returned to his table and gathered up his notes. This had been a singularly frustrating and disappointing day for Elias, but he was rarely one to dwell on that which could not be changed. He was already going over the basic outline of his paper in his head, and by the time he left the library his conversation with the Librarian was all but forgotten in favor of focusing on things that actually affected his life.
After all, how could a Dark Prince ever have any relevant impact on a solitary scholar like Elias Sutterby?
Chapter 2
The answer, Elias mused later on that evening, was apparently "indirectly".
"I can't believe Father actually went through with it!" the Crown Prince raved, throwing his hands violently into the air as he quickly paced back and forth. "I can't believe he actually invited someone from Mournhelm to live here!"
Elias watched calmly, disinterest pulling his eyelids half closed as he marked the progress of the Prince's pacing. They were both on the opulent balcony just off the Prince's private sitting room; the setting sun casting a soft, golden glow over the City of White sprawled out below them like a bright, monochromatic tapestry. Elias sat perched on the edge of a decadently soft lounge chair, two books which had yet to be so much as glanced at in his lap while the Prince dashed back and forth from railing to railing as he railed against his father, the King.
"And a Dark Prince no less! A Dark Prince! They wear their evil in their names, Elias! They don't even try to hide it!" A gust of wind kicked up, blowing the Prince's shoulder-length, light blond curls into his soft-featured face. He slapped his hair away irritably. Elias's own longer, browner hair was sensibly tied back with three, evenly spaced ribbons to hang between his shoulder blades, so he was spared a similar indignity. "And he sent Sir Elbert into their foul kingdom all alone! It's madness, Elias. Sheer madness. What was Father thinking?"
Knowing a rhetorical question when he heard it, Elias remained silent. He was, allegedly, supposed to be tutoring the Prince for his upcoming exams at the Royal University. However, when he arrived at the Prince's door, he'd barely had time to knock before he was hauled inside by the irate heir and subjected to what could, charitably, be called a list of grievances. He wondered, not for the first time, why the Prince even bothered with higher education. It certainly wasn't because of any desire for knowledge. Even though the Prince was two years older than Elias's twenty and two, they both went through their schooling together at the castle and Elias had endured more than one rant per semester about how pointless whatever they were studying was in "the real world". And while a well-rounded, basic education was a must for a future king, university level studies were not. That was why kings had advisers.
>
"And why didn't he tell me!" The Prince whined, throwing his hands in the air again. "He always talks about how he wants me to participate more in the running of the kingdom, but, whenever an important decision is being discussed, he shuts me out and only tells me about it after it's been decided!"
With that, the Prince threw himself into the chair next to Elias. The agitation, which had seemed like it would shake him apart moments ago, faded as he crossed his arms and settled into a sulk.
"It isn't fair," he muttered. "Why doesn't Father include me in anything important?"
"Possibly because you show absolutely no interest in being included until after you're excluded," Elias said calmly.
"I do not! I show loads of interest!"
Elias raised an eyebrow and met the Prince's gaze evenly.
After a moment, the Prince shrugged sheepishly. "Well, sometimes I do. I showed interest in planning the Harvest Festival."
"Only because the agricultural council plied you with sweets to keep you from questioning any of their decisions."
"They did not. And anyway"—he continued before Elias could point out all the times he had tried to share those sweets with him—"I'm supposed to be king one day. Father says so all the time. I should be at least informed about major decisions that affect the kingdom. Isn't that right?"
"Yes," Elias reluctantly agreed.
"See! Even you think so. It's Father's advisers," the Prince said sullenly. "None of them think I'll make a good king. All they do is tell Father to exclude me. I even overheard one of them saying that they should pressure Father into remarrying so he could have another child! He said I was 'defective', Elias. Defective! As if the royal family was no more than a line of prized racehorses!"
And how, exactly, is that different from how any of the nobility treats itself?
The Prince scowled, then looked beseechingly at Elias. "You think I'll be a good king, don't you, Elias?"
"Not at all."
Elias counted himself lucky this didn't set off another round of histrionics.
"But why not?" the Prince asked, pouting.
"Would you like a list?"
To Elias's surprise, the Prince laughed. "Elias…" he said fondly.
"That wasn't a joke," Elias said flatly. Then, before the Prince could respond, he continued. "You don't take things seriously when you should, and when you decide not to laugh something off, you end up going into hysterics like a child. You have a lack of self-awareness that is astounding—even in a noble—and quite possibly criminal in a king. You have little self-restraint, you make terrible decisions, you lack ruthlessness—"
"Ruthlessness?"
"Yes, ruthlessness. A king must be ruthless in the protection of his kingdom. You also have almost no common sense—"
The Prince snorted. "Is this about the dragon again?"
"Even if it were only about the dragon that would be enough to disqualify you from being fit for kingship—"
"That was ages ago—"
"—even if you didn't make excuses—"
"—I was sixteen—"
"—and constantly blame your age—"
"—the dragon took it too personally—"
"—you still showed a near comatose level of critical thinking—"
"—there wasn't any permanent damage done—"
"—it took two weeks to put out all the fires in the Lower Quarter—"
"—and we chased the dragon away—"
"—fifty-seven people died—"
"—it could have been worse—"
"—and the dragon only left because it got bored and your father gave it half the gold in the treasury."
The Prince settled back into his sulk. "I still say we could have killed it," he muttered.
Elias pinched the bridge of his nose. "And that is why you would make a terrible king."
For a moment, a brief, almost imperceptible moment, Elias thought something he said might have gotten through to him. Despite his general lack of regard for almost everyone he met, Elias would, under severe duress, admit the Crown Prince was the closest thing he had to a friend. He didn't particularly like him—which Elias knew most people would consider a very important prerequisite for friendship—in fact, he rather disdained the Prince most of the time, but he did genuinely want to see him become a better person. Most of that was because he, like almost everybody else who wasn't the King, feared for what would happen to the kingdom once the Crown Prince was sitting on the White Throne, and because of a promise he made to Queen Cornelia many years ago. But there was a small yet noticeable part of Elias that wanted the Prince to improve himself for his own sake. Much like the Head Librarian, the Prince was very rarely bothered by Elias's brusque manner and general indifference. Unlike the Librarian, who was more of a mentor than anything else, he had been the only child around Elias's age who had actually gone out of his way to try and make the son of a maid feel welcome in a classroom with the children of kings and dukes.
So, despite all evidence pointing to the opposite outcome, Elias hoped this moment wouldn't end in disappointment like so many others.
However, much like those many others, it did.
"I still say it wasn't completely my fault," the Prince said, unfolding his arms and picking at edge of his chair. "Since when does a dragon land that close to the city anyway?"
"Since your father invited it to oversee your coming of age ceremony," Elias said, banishing his disappointment behind a deadpan tone.
"And really"—the Prince went on, ignoring him—"how likely is it that will ever happen again? Not very, I'd say. And next time, I wouldn't insult it, I'd just send all the knights out to attack. The stupid lizard would never know what hit it."
What does it say about a man when his nemesis is more intelligent than the closest thing he has to a friend?
And what did it say about a kingdom when a lazy scribe was more intelligent than the future king?
"Highness, is there even a possibility that—"
"Elias." The Prince interrupted with a wry smile. "How many times do I have to tell you to call me by my given name?"
"Highness," Elias continued patiently. Rare and highly prized was the permission to call a member of royalty or the high nobility by anything other than their titled name or an honorific, but Elias had little desire to use this privilege with the Prince. He knew from experience it would only encourage him to be more…himself. "Are you planning on letting me tutor you tonight or not? I have several important projects I've put on hold to help you and I would like to get back to them if all you're going to do is complain about His Majesty."
It was a lie, of course. Until his book was repaired, he actually had nothing to do but organize his notes, but like it almost always did, the threat of Elias leaving got the Prince to give in.
"Fine, fine," he grumbled, but sat forward dutifully. There was a small table between them, and the Prince reluctantly opened his notebook and dipped his quill in the inkwell. "Can we at least start with anything other than the—"
His request trailed off into a groan as Elias, finally, cracked open the Advanced Mathematics text and handed it to the Prince.
"No," Elias said.
"I hate mathematics."
He never understood the violent aversion most people had to mathematics. While Elias's own primary interests lay in…other directions, numbers had always come easily to him.
"Then you should have pursued a different degree."
Honestly, Elias had no idea why the Prince decided to make siege mechanics his field of study. It wasn't like a prince would ever be allowed to actually build any siege engines. It was too dangerous even in peacetime, let alone in the incredibly unlikely event of an actual war.
Although, maybe not as unlikely as it was a day ago…
Elias frowned internally. He'd been so focused on not wasting time thinking about Mournhelm or the Dark Prince, he hadn't even fully considered the logical reasoning behind the so called diplomatic exchange
.
Could there actually be a war coming?
"What in the seven hells is an integer?" the Crown Prince asked, scowling at the book.
Elias let out a small sigh and decided to shelve his thoughts for later. With all the patience he possessed, he leaned over and started to explain it to the Prince.
Slowly.
* * * *
It was night when they finally finished. The moon was full and bright in the sky and it, along with the torches Elias lit just before the sun fully set, had kept the balcony lit well enough so they could stay outside for the entire session. The maid, who had been giving Elias disapproving looks since she walked in on him lighting the torch himself, cleared away the remains of the light dinner they had shared as Elias gathered up his books.
"Well," the Prince said. He stretched, took a sip of tea that had been ignored far too long for it to still be hot, then made a face before putting it back on the table. "I'm not sure I'll ever understand what a distributive property is, but I think I can fake it well enough to pass the exams."
"Faking it seems to be your area of expertise," Elias said.
"Why, Elias!" The Prince gasped theatrically and pressed his hand to his chest. "Was that a suggestive comment?"
Elias stared at him blankly. "I'm sure I have no idea what you mean."
The Prince laughed. "No. No, I'm sure you don't."
His soft laughter trailed off, leaving nothing but the distant crickets and the quiet crackling of the torches to break the silence. The Prince stared at Elias, an odd look on his face. Elias waited patiently. It was his experience with situations like these that the moment he thought the conversation was over and he got up to leave, the other person would ask him something that required a lengthy answer. It might have been superstitious, but he had gotten in the habit of staying seated in the hopes of receiving a quick valediction instead.
"Elias, I…" The Prince trailed off, his eyes sliding away from Elias's face. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, then he looked back to Elias. "What do you think of the Dark Prince coming here?"
