by Kyra Gregory
“It has been too long,” Prince Pietros observed.
Riffin smirked, “You were in Lionessa a little over a month ago,” he remarked.
Prince Pietros chuckled, “It is not only I that has missed you,” he said.
Thane made a show of glancing around, “Really?” he asked. “I do not see the King here to greet the heir to the Three Kingdoms.”
Riffin glared at his best friend out of the corner of his eye, willing the younger man to behave. Thane licked his lips, looking to his boots as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other.
Prince Pietros chuckled, “The King is finishing up matters of business,” he said. He looked to Riffin, meeting his gaze, “I’m sure you can understand,” he said.
Riffin had no reason to disbelieve him, though he didn’t say a word in response. Pietros led him inside, through the spacious, lavish rooms, to the grand sitting room. Riffin made himself comfortable on the couch, sitting back and placing one leg over the other. He was aware of the Thane standing over his shoulder, his arms crossed against his chest as his shadow loomed over him.
Pietros picked up a decanter and glass, pouring out a drink as he walked across the room to where Riffin was seated. Extending the drink to his cousin, Thane interjected with a sharp smile, taking a mouthful of the drink before the Prince could even lay his hand on the glass. Pietros smirked, cocking his head to one side as he retrieved another two glasses.
Riffin glanced back at his friend, watching as he seemed to enjoy the drink. He’d often have nightmares, thoughts of the day that he would look back at the man who always drank first, always ate first, and find him choking to death, his body tainted with poison. Even in the presence of family, that fear was as strong as ever.
Riffin wasn’t foolish, watching the Prince drink his own before even considering taking a sip. Riffin wiped the rim of his cup, subtle as it may have been, his caution was expected by his cousins, not frowned upon.
With two guards opening the doors before either of them could say another word, the King of Ludorum entered. “Cousin,” King Niles greeted, a polite smile on his lips. “Sorry for keeping you waiting.”
“If there’s anyone who understands royal duties, it is I,” Riffin said, rising to his feet.
King Niles lowered himself into a seat across from him leaving Riffin to stand on his own, not receiving nearly as welcoming of a greeting as the King’s brother had bestowed. The King smirked, asking, “Your mother is working you this much already?”
“My mother wishes to ascertain that I am prepared,” Riffin replied.
“Just as she was,” King Niles said.
“Better than she was,” Riffin corrected.
King Niles paused, visibly biting the inside of his cheek, “That’s good,” he declared. “It’s important to be prepared. An inexperienced monarch is a dangerous thing.”
Riffin’s brows twitched. His eyes narrowed and he found himself looking at his cousin with a growing darkness. “And what would you consider my mother?” he asked.
He chuckled, a sound that was enough to send a shiver down Riffin’s spine. “Your mother lacked experience, that is to be sure, but she has a mind capable of adapting for it.” He licked his lips, reclining into his seat as he glanced into his glass, “There are few like her,” he added.
Riffin smirked, looking away, “Difficult as it may have been, my mother’s knowledge has been invaluable.”
“How is your mother? And what about about my cousin?”
Riffin shifted in his seat, licking his lips, “My mother is fine, just as she has always been, and the same can be said for my father.”
Pietros smirked, “Your father was in Warren recently, I was told,” Pietros remarked, “though he didn’t think to visit.”
Riffin looked up from beneath his lashes, “My father has been busy,” he replied, trying to keep resentment from his voice. “Although we hoped that he would take it easier as we grew older, as we took care of ourselves, that hasn’t happened as of yet. He has busied himself with Neyva’s lands and he has never ended his tutoring of us.”
King Niles scoffed, “I always thought it was a mistake for your mother to give Neyva lands, especially ones as expansive as the ones she has received.”
Riffin hung his head in his bid to hide his smirk, “I do not think it a mistake,” he said. “My sister… She is a capable ruler—just like my mother.”
“Perhaps you’re right,” he said, taking a second drink from his brother, “but, perhaps, I’m also right in saying that the blood that runs through her veins is also that of a bastard and a servant.”
“And, yet, that bastard has accomplished more than most nobles could dream of,” Riffin replied. Although he knew his father was on well-enough terms with his Ludorum cousins, Riffin still didn’t take kindly to his father being called a bastard, by anyone, nor his sister that for that matter. “He has a title, he has land, he has married a Queen, and he holds a position of trust by her side. That is not bad for a bastard. Should my sister get half of that, she would already have achieved more than what most are capable of.”
“That may not be a matter worth bragging about,” Prince Pietros said.
Riffin looked to the two brothers in confusion and he could feel Thane inch closer, taking a step forward from where he stood behind him.
“Giving lands to those underserving of it is—”
“Precisely what your grandfather did,” Riffin countered, knowingly.
King Niles’s nostrils flared, “And he got killed for it,” he said, cold and stern.
“My mother has never given anything to those undeserving,” he argued.
“Everybody is deserving to someone,” Prince Pietros said, rolling his eyes. “The pirates are deserving in the eyes of your mother, but not in the eyes of the Azurians whose land was taken to give them what they have been granted.”
Riffin rolled his eyes, “It was seventeen years ago!” he exclaimed with an incredulous smile.
“And it as recent as yesterday for some,” King Niles said.
“For you, you mean?” Riffin asked, shutting him down. “The matter of the pirates, the matter of their legitimacy—This cannot be a problem anymore.” Riffin rose to his feet, walking to the bar before pouring himself a drink, feeling the eyes of those around him burning into his back.
“What is your mother planning?” Prince Pietros asked, suspicion in his tone.
“Nothing,” Riffin replied. “It is for my own benefit.”
King Niles raised his brows, quizzing him with the intensity in his gaze.
“I will be marrying Malia Bricken,” Riffin declared. “She has already agreed,” he added, watching the wave of disapproval sweep the room.
“Of course she has,” King Niles snapped, leaning forward in his seat. “She would be marrying a future King.”
Prince Pietros looked to his brother, glaring, wishing his twin would control himself. “What does your mother have to say about this?” Prince Pietros asked Riffin.
“She has approved it, obviously,” Riffin replied, seating himself again as he prepared himself for the onslaught of questions.
“Your mother is mad,” King Niles scoffed, shaking his head.
“My mother married for love,” Riffin said, “and she isn’t opposed to me doing the same. That makes her mad?”
“Your mother didn’t marry for love,” King Niles scoffed. Riffin raised a brow at that; he didn’t believe it, not in the slightest, but he couldn’t help but be curious as to why the King thought so. “Your mother made a tactical decision—based on the skills and ambitions of the man she found.”
“She considered your father loyal enough to fight for her but not to attempt to take her throne,” Prince Pietros said.
“Even in spite of his betrayal,” King Niles added. “That he succeeded at getting her to forgive him for that—That is proof of the man’s skills. She was wise in her decision, knowing what the man was capable of in war—both on the
battlefield and in the throne room.”
“The wife of a future King should be capable of assuming the role—should have an asset to contribute,” Prince Pietros added.
“You’re dismissing her and you haven’t the slightest idea about her,” Riffin protested, bitterness in his tone.
“We know that she isn’t of noble birth,” King Niles said.
Prince Pietros shook his head, “It is not even a matter of noble birth,” he said. “She serves no purpose.”
Riffin bit back his anger. Instead, he chuckled. “Perhaps she does not seem like the perfect political candidate but, personally, she is what I want.”
Prince Pietros half-chuckled and half-scoffed, hanging his head, “You’re still a child,” he said, “talking about what you want as though it is the only thing that matters.” He rose to his feet, turning his back on them as he went to replenish his cup. Riffin couldn’t help but watch him, watching the manner in which he detached himself—it so much unlike himself.
“Ambition is not a bad thing,” Riffin declared, “more so if it is an ambition to be happy.” He had grown up being taught of war and politics, the things that his mother and father had done in order to survive, to see a future for their kingdoms and for their livelihoods. All that misery was in pursuit of a better world, a shred of happiness that they could find in their lives that had been weighted by their duties.
Niles and Pietros… He knew they had suffered in their efforts, that they had incurred losses of close family, but he couldn’t imagine why they would look down on him just because he hadn’t suffered to acquire the happiness he so craved.
“Ambition is what has led to the deaths of once-great leaders—what has led them to overstep.”
“And you think that my marrying for love is overstepping?” he asked.
“I think your attempt at raising a commoner in station by marrying her is overstepping.”
“Malia rose in station long ago,” he said. “Her mother and father are loyal subjects; the very fact that my mother recognises them as such has done more for their reputations than any title possibly could.”
“That was a mistake of your mother,” he replied, “and you would be wise not to aid her in her endeavour to repeat it.”
Riffin smirked, “I believe you are encouraging treason,” he said.
King Niles smirked, “No King has ever ruled without diverging from his predecessor,” he said.
“Some are better suited not rocking the boat,” Riffin said.
“Is that what you think you are doing? Not rocking the boat?” King Niles asked, raising his brows at him.
“Just because you appease your mother, doesn’t mean you are appeasing those that matter,” Prince Pietros said.
“My mother is the Queen of the Three Kingdoms; she is the one that matters.” Riffin clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, getting onto his feet. “You have your own kingdom to rule,” he declared. “What does it matter to you how my mother rules her’s?”
“Your mother is our ally,” King Niles said through gritted teeth. “If your mother is dead, that is a risk to our alliance.”
“If you oppose her choices at every turn, that is also a risk to your alliance,” he said, a smirk on his lips. The argument grew tiresome and, with the realisation that there would be no changing their minds, he reckoned he should be an end to it. “Rule your kingdom as you see fit. Allow my mother the same privilege.” Before his cousins could open their mouths to speak, Riffin bowed his head, “Now, if you don’t mind, I’m tired—I would like to visit my chambers.”
Wordlessly, King Niles licked his lips, sitting back in his seat as he waved his hand dismissively.
Riffin lowered his head to hide his smirk, making his way out of the room before allowing himself to be led down the corridor. Thane walked with him into his chambers, grabbing a handful of almonds from the centre table in the entrance hall. The rooms were lavish, suited for a man of Riffin’s status, with an adjoining room in close quarters for his attendants, separated by a seating area.
“Your cousins don’t seem to agree with your match,” Thane said, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth. There was no mistaking the disgruntled-nature of his voice, more angered by their thoughts than Riffin was.
Riffin shrugged his shoulders, snorting, “I don’t care for their agreement,” he said. “The only person who need permit it is my mother and she’s approved.”
Thane chuckled. “Perhaps she knows she has no choice in the matter,” he said. “Perhaps she knows that time and energy is better spent trying to make it work than spent arguing with you against it.”
Riffin laughed, cocking his head from side-to-side in some agreement, “Perhaps,” he said. “Perhaps she recalls what she was like at my age.”
Thane smirked, “She can relate to your stubbornness then,” he remarked.
“She was terribly stubborn, you know?” he started, casting a glance towards his friend. “She was so stubborn that, by the age of seventeen, her father refused to educate her any longer!”
Thane chuckled, “You’ve outdone her in that regard,” he said.
Riffin cocked his head to one side, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth, “I’m not foolish enough to make an enemy of my mother,” he said. “She could have struck all hope of me marrying Malia in an instant. She could refuse. I think the fact that she didn’t, in part, has something to do with the fact that I’ve always played the part of a dutiful son to her.”
Thane glanced at him from under his lashes, “Have you ever worried that she may have made a political match?” he asked.
Riffin shrugged his shoulders, “Sometimes,” he said. “It wasn’t foreign to me as a concept; my father told me of the attempts of others to marry my mother. It was never a secret that an agreement could be made.” Riffin glanced over at his friend, watching him seated, hunched over and running his fingers through his hair. “Are you worried about being arranged?” he asked.
Thane chuckled. Riffin smiled but his friend’s unease was audible enough to unsettle him. “It would be inconvenient, don’t you think?” he asked. “I’d miss the freedom.”
Riffin smiled but he wasn’t ignorant to what lay beneath his words. Thane’s mother and father had pledged their lives to serving his family and their loyalty had it’s benefits. Thane had been educated as thoroughly as the Prince himself, offered many of the same opportunities. It also meant, however, that he was equally as well-guarded. Living within the Capital, within the palace, meant that he had spent a remarkable portion of his life within those same walls, separated from much of the rest of the world.
Thane had withdrawn as much as possible from family, and duties, the moment he turned sixteen. Riffin reckoned that the only reason he stuck around as much as he did was because of the friendship between them. They had spent most of their lives together; Thane was like a brother to him. They had played together in the gardens, got up to mischief with each other and worked together to drive their tutors crazy.
Riffin glanced over, a soft smirk on his lips. “You won’t lose me to my marriage, you know?” There was a touch of humour in his voice, keeping his words light, but the sincerity behind them was unmistakeable.
Thane smirked, hanging his head. Like Riffin, his amusement concealed the devotion they felt towards each other. “I’m sworn to protect you,” he said. “I cannot imagine myself leaving your side—married or not.” His words came to him as a relief. His life was ever-changing—evolving constantly—and to have something that would be certain… That was of comfort to him. Thane shifted his weight before he could say anything else, “So is it true? Has Malia really agreed?” he asked.
“For the most part,” he said. “Once my mother gave me her word, I couldn’t help writing to Malia. She’s as surprised as I am that she’s conceded the way she has but we both cannot help but be glad for it.”
“Do you reckon there’s any truth behind it?” Thane asked, looking a
t him from beneath his lashes.
“Any truth to what?”
“To this marriage being your downfall,” Thane said, speaking around a mouthful of almonds. “To your mother not taking her duties as Queen seriously enough by allowing it.”
Riffin scoffed, shaking his head as he slipped out of his jacket. “My mother has been Queen longer than Niles has been King,” he said. “And she has held onto her throne with a firmer grip than he could ever even hope. I would not take the man so seriously.”
Thane didn’t say another word, instead making his way over to the balcony doors, admiring the view of the Ludorum kingdom as the sun began to set.
A quick glance at his profile and Riffin knew that he was still struck by concerns—there were plenty, and Riffin was uncertain which one troubled him the most. Thane’s father was a dutiful servant of the family, of the kingdom, and his mother resided alongside them both within the Lionessan palace. The Queen in harm’s way put his own family in harm’s way. If he lost his best friend, or the Queen he served, he could lose his entire family in the process.
Riffin smirked, approaching the balcony to partake in the view with him. “You don’t think my mother would be taken without a fight, do you?” he asked.
Thane chuckled, “She wouldn’t know how,” he said.
“It’s a marriage, Thane,” Riffin said, clapping him on the back of the shoulder, “not a death sentence.” Thane held his smile a moment longer, flashing it in his direction before looking back out towards the view again.
Riffin slipped away, pulling his shirt off over his head before tossing it on the back of the nearest couch. His muscles ached and, collapsing onto the bed, he thought that a rest, without the jostling of a carriage beneath him, was just what he needed. “Wake me in time for supper,” he said, yawning.
Thane’s reply came to him as nothing louder than a gentle hum from across the room as Riffin rolled over, tucking a pillow beneath his head.
There was an ease and a frustration that came with being away from the palace that he called home. On the one hand, he could take his time to do what he liked, to lay in bed in the privacy of his chambers for as long as he liked and know that his mother would not summon him to share in her duties and that his father would not call on him for an impromptu lesson.
